The Wardrobe
by Rose and Psyche
Summary: In which five children are sent to the country and wander unwittingly into a strange wardrobe. Note: there are no major original characters in this story; they are all Lewis' own. Book-verse AU.
1. Why It Was

Note: Have mercy on me, I wrote this when I was thirteen and have been poking at it ever since. Most of it is inspired by Jack Lewis' timeless classic, _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe._ The rest of it, if it seems peculiar, is directly based on a dream my sister had (as well as a couple of my own).So, sit back, listen to the Celtic woman on YouTube and enjoy!

**If this is the first time you are reading this, please feel free to review, good or bad. I'd love to have your input. **

* * *

><p>"These are the times that try men's souls…Tyranny, like hell is not easily conquered." ~<em>The American Crises<em>, Thomas Paine

* * *

><p>Chapter One: Why It Was<p>

Eustace Clarence Scrubb, or just Scrubb as his teachers called him, was rather an odd soul. He used to call his father and mother Harold and Alberta instead of father and mother and he ate only a very limited amount of things, things like eggplant, Brussels sprouts and spinach weren't even in his vocabulary. But perhaps we can't blame him; Eustace's parents were very odd as well. They were teetotalers, pacifists and had very few clothes on the bed. They always had the windows open summer and winter and it was usually quite cold in their house. They lived in Oxford, very near the famous university.

It was now 1939 and Eustace's parents had been killed in a car accident the month before. Eustace had to endure life with his closest living relatives…his Mother's cousin Edward Pevensie and his wife, Miriam, and their four children, Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy.

To put it all in perspective, it's been a little over exactly seventy years since 1939.

~o*o~

Eustace was sitting in the corner with a bug book.

"Oh!" Lucy giggled as Peter chased her around the room, "You do look funny!"

Peter stopped, pulled his new gas mask off his face and grinned at her.

"They're awful to breathe through," Susan said, tucking hers back into its canvas bag.

"They're pretty awful to look at too," Edmund noted.

"Except for mine," Lucy said, dimples dancing over her face. It was true; Lucy's was smaller than the others and was made of bright red rubber shaped like the face of Mickey Mouse.

They had received their gas masks that day. It was September and England had declared war on Germany only a few weeks before, on the third, following Germany's invasion of Poland. The grinding might of Germany would overrun Poland in a matter of months now and England and France stood alone, fighting for their lives across the channel on French soil. It was only a matter of time before Germany would begin bombing England and most people believed that they would use gas like they had in the Great War.

"For goodness sakes!" Eustace exclaimed as Peter began playing the piano, "Stop pounding that thing!"

The piano sounded like Peter had put his whole weight down into it. He was playing _Be Thou My Vision_, his favorite hymn. He wasn't bad at playing it…he was just being overly enthusiastic. Susan's clear alto rose above the fading notes and Peter settled down to playing the piece more quietly so she could sing along.

Edmund sat down with the chessboard on the window seat followed by Lucy. He hated playing with Eustace, because Eustace _always _lost. Slowly, deliberately, Edmund positioned his pieces on the board. Lucy, her golden hair glowing like a halo in the sunlight, lined hers up more quickly, always racing to be finished first.

Softly the door opened and Mrs. Pevensie looked through, a slight smile on her face.

She looked at Peter, Peter looked happy, she was glad. Since Mr. Pevensie had gone into active service in the RAF, Peter had taken on the role of the head of the house as if it were some sort of duel to be won. Eustace loathed him for it; the others were amused and even helped when he mapped out an escape plan for the house for when the bombing started. There had been an air raid shelter to erect in the garden, corrugated steel among the lilacs. Lucy had painted flowers over it and the neighbors agreed it was the prettiest air raid shelter in the area.

Susan's beautiful voice hung in the air and her black hair flashed with sparks of fire from the sun streaming through the window.

_"Be Thou my Wisdom, Thou my true Word;_

_I ever with Thee, Thou with me, Lord…_

_Be Thou my battle-shield, sword for my fight,_

_Be Thou my dignity, Thou my delight._

_Thou my soul's shelter, Thou my high tower._

_Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power."_

Black pawn took white knight.

"I should have seen that," Lucy moaned.

Edmund smiled a cunning smile.

A flat was played with enthusiasm on the piano. Eustace glanced up annoyed; Mrs. Pevensie came into the room. The piano ceased abruptly, Susan's voice died. White castle checked black king.

"Children!" Mrs. Pevensie said, "I have something to talk to you about."

"What is it mum?" Peter asked looking at her over the top of the piano.

Edmund glanced up, he knew by her face something happened or was going to happen.

"Your father and I are going to send you away."

They stared at her horrified.

"But mum!" Susan gasped, "You can't!"

"No, we've decided," Mrs. Pevensie said, with the calmness of one who had been troubled but was now at rest, "The government is advising families in the city to send their children to the country. Mrs. Murphy has already sent her children to America."

"_Not_ America!" Susan exclaimed.

"No, _not_ America," Mrs. Pevensie replied vehemently, "You are going to an old friend of your father's, do you remember Mr. and Mrs. Kirke? It was a long time ago. Your father was in the trenches with Mr. Kirke before the RFC recruited him."

"Vaguely," Peter said, and then burst out, "someone ought to be here with you! At least I ought."

"No," Mrs. Pevensie said decisively, "you are _all_ going."

Lucy's face crumpled up and she let out a wail, both Susan and Mrs. Pevensie went to comfort her.

"But Mum!" Peter exclaimed. "I'm going into the RAF next year!"

"No you're not!" Mrs. Pevensie said over Lucy's head, "I've told you again and again, I _won't _sign for you!"

"Father will," Peter replied.

"No he won't," Mrs. Pevensie said firmly, "It's bad enough that he's in the RAF."

"I suppose the war won't last that long anyway," Susan said comfortingly.

* * *

><p>Edited 731/11

Author's note:

Operation Pied Piper; the major evacuation of millions of woman and children, from English cities, was in the planning stages in 1938 and went into effect August 31, 1939, the month before the war actually started. (September 3, 1939). The first bombs fell in the Shetland Islands 1939; a rabbit was the lone casualty.

After that followed what was called the 'phony war' though it was anything but phony out at sea on convoys and on French soil. In 1940, the French and English forces were driven to Dunkirk and the famous (though not the first of the war, that was Norway) evacuation of thousands of allied troops followed. After Dunkirk, Germans had the airbases in France and finally had the range to reach England. For the first part of the year, they bombed British airbases exclusively, but finely gave up and on September 7, 1940, the first bombs of the war to fall on any English city fell on London and the period called the 'Blitz' ensued.

Unfortunately, in the winter of 1939, many children returned to their parents in the city because neither gas, nor bombs had been used. They were back just in time for the Blitz.

Please note that the Pevensie children in my story are not part of Operation Pied Piper. They are being sent to the country by their parents to friends, not organized by the ARP and sent to strangers. (CS Lewis himself was one of those strangers and took in children during the war. No doubt, the Pevensies in his book were meant to be part of Operation Pied Piper.)

Happy reading!

~Psyche


	2. The Country

The Country

That was how it happened that the four Pevensies, and Eustace of course, found themselves on the train headed to the country.

'Evacuating' was what they called it. Officials had planned to send 1.5 million women and children to the country as soon as the war started. Bombing was imminent. Peter especially hated the thought of 'Evacuating', he Peter Pevensie, was far too old for 'Evacuating'. It was disgraceful. Anyway, he was going into the RAF.

After the war ended, there were horror stories about the homes to which the children went. Some children walked for miles to get back to their parents in the city. Nevertheless, desperate parents faced the dangers and decided that even an uncertain home in the country was safer then firestorms from constant bombing in the major cities. But, most of the homes in the country were good and kind to the poor children that came to them.

~o*o~

The Pevensies and Eustace arrived at Glenridding village a little after four in the afternoon. The shadows were growing longer and the sun was low in the sky. They could just see the sparkle of the sun off Ullswater beyond the town to their right.

The hills rose up around them in craggy green beauty. If they were higher, Peter told them, because he had been soaking in a map of the area during their journey, they could see mountains in Scotland. It was beautiful, beautiful, but somehow it seemed too bright, because the world in distant parts was too dark.

Just that morning the aircraft carrier HMS_ Courageous _had been torpedo by a U-boat and sunk off Ireland. Later that day, the army of the Soviet Union had invaded Poland from the east and the Germans had encircled Warsaw. It was only a matter of time before Poland would fall.

They piled their suitcases and gas masks on a nearby bench and stood, watching a distant spec of sail beating across the lake. A tall maple to their right was just beginning to be singed by the cold weather. Winter was coming. Susan turned to button Lucy's coat higher about her neck. They all started at the sound of a backfiring engine.

An old battered truck leaped around the corner. Edmund, who was the automobile connoisseur, had difficultly placing the year and make. Susan was vaguely wondering if it had ever been a definite color. Peter wondered how tires so bald managed to have any traction.

The truck screeched to a halt, the brakes whining like tortured ghosts.

A man leaned out of the window, or wind hole, rather, for the glass had long since disappeared. Or perhaps, Edmund speculated, it never was.

"Hello!" the man said, he had dark hair, graying now and a ruddy face, very odd, but very memorable. "I'm Digory Kirke, You Edward's kids?"

"We are," Peter said stepping forward, "I'm Peter, sir."

"And you?" Mr. Kirke's gaze came to Susan.

"Susan, sir," Susan said smartly.

"I'm Lucy!" Lucy exclaimed, "I'm very glad to be here!"

"I'm delighted to hear that," Mr. Kirke said, smiling. He turned an inquiring gaze on Edmund.

"Edmund, sir," Edmund broke into a shy smile.

Mr. Kirke turned and looked at Eustace, but Eustace was pretending to look the other way.

"Well, I suppose one of you doesn't belong to a name, very unfortunate, but…" he looked back at the rest of them, "Welcome anyway. Mrs. Kirke would have been here to welcome you too, but she's away, looking after her mother, I'm expecting her back in a few weeks."

"We really are glad to be here," Susan said, "and we'd like to thank you for being so kind."

"My pleasure!" Mr. Kirke said, "Most of you seem very delightful. There seem to be quite a lot of you, I suppose it didn't occur to me how many five really is. Ah well. All luggage and boys in the back, girls in the front."

"I'm not going to ride in the back!" Eustace exclaimed. "It's not safe!"

"You could run along behind," Edmund suggested, pitching a suitcase into the bed.

"I'll ride in the back!" Susan said quickly, then stepped closer to the Professor, "His parents were killed in a car accident."

"Well then, he can be a gentleman for once," Mr. Kirke said decisively, "Hop in the front, my dear."

~o*o~

It's a beautiful place, the Lakes district. The countryside was beautiful, misty and almost Scottish. It had a magical, mysterious quality about it.

The travelers in the bed commanded the finest view, even Eustace had to admit it was breathtaking. I won't say the journey wasn't hazardous, for the truck had an uncanny knack of behaving like a wild thing, bucking and rearing like a stallion. But it gave them, especially Peter, a free, daredevilish sort of feeling.

"It's a big place," Mr. Kirke said over the roar of the engine. "A very large place. Don't get lost in."

Susan nodded, staring out the window at the sweeping countryside.

"Don't fall foul of my Uncle," Mr. Kirke continued, "He's a reformed soul, but he can still be a bit unpleasant at times."

Susan smiled. The engine howled.

"Do you have any children?" Lucy wanted to know.

"No, unfortunately," Mr. Kirke replied, "we always wanted them, but the stork passed up by."

"Oh…I'm sorry," Lucy said, not quite sure what to say. That was the proper thing to say to someone who'd lost a child, not someone who'd lost a child that never existed.

After about fifteen minutes, they arrived.

The professor's house lived up to every description the Pevensies' parents had given them. It was Elizabethan, constructed of light gray stone, solemn and beautiful and strangely mysterious with many windows like silver mirrors, reflecting the blue clouded sky. Great trees, elms and oaks stood behind it, adding an older feeling to the place. Ivy grew heavily on the west wing. The lawns were very green and wide with straight pebbled paths running between bushes carved into geometric shapes by the gardeners. The lake, cheerful and gleaming, sparkled at the end of the lawn.

The truck roared up to the front door, bucked around in a circle and came to a squealing halt.

Eight people were standing outside, waiting for them. The doorman, who remained where he was, the chuffer, who took the truck away the moment the baggage was unloaded, three maids, Ivy, Margaret and Betty, the Professor explained, the housekeeper, Mrs. Macready, a tall, strict woman with a tight gray bun and lastly, two elderly people who were quite delighted to see the children. They were, they learned, the elder Mr. and Mrs. Kirke.

~o*o~

It was the day after they arrived that the four children…and Eustace were eating breakfast. They had taken supper in their own sitting room the night before, as the professor had told them that they would be much too tired to keep company with old codgers like him and his parents.

"He's not old," Peter had said afterwards, "he's fifty-one. Only ten years older than father."

"I saw his limp," Edmund said, "How did he get that?"

"Father was in the RFC by the time that happened," Peter said.

That morning, they had switched on the wireless for the news that the Polish President had left Poland for Romania. Things were going from bad to worse.

"Why is it always like that?" Peter had exclaimed, "Just look at a historical map and Poland is constantly disappearing and reappearing like magic, they all seem to want it."

Eustace let his spoon fall back into his bowl. He had a terrible headache.

"What's this?" he asked peering into his bowl.

"Cornflakes," Susan said.

"I never eat cornflakes!" Eustace shouted, "Why doesn't anyone ever eat proper food? Why don't they have Plum Tree's vitaminized nerve food? And made only with distilled water, not water from the tap. I never drink water from the tap!"

"Just eat them Eustace," Peter said, "There isn't any Plum Tree's vitaminized nerve food here."

"I will not!" Eustace got up and stormed out of the room.

"Little grub…" Edmund muttered, "All he cares about is himself…and his bug books."

"Edmund!" Susan said sternly, "he's your cousin; you jolly well have to be nice to him."

"I don't know if I want to be, he's such a beast…"

"Did you notice that his hair is white?" Lucy said, her big, blue eyes dancing. She had noticed this for a long time, but she had never mentioned it until now.

"It isn't white," Peter said, "it's really red. But you're right, it does look rather pale…like a grub."

"The resemblance between Eustace Scrubb and a grub is very startling," Susan said after a moment, "Sorry, I couldn't resist saying that."

"Why Su! I'm ashamed of you!" Peter laughed.

"I'm sure he can't be so very bad..." Lucy said, "I mean, it must be dreadful to have both your parent's killed in a car accident, perhaps that's why he's so beastly. I suppose we must be nice to him."

"So do I," Susan said, "we must be very nice to him; after all, we'll have to live with him for a while."

"I still think his hair is jolly white," Lucy giggled.

Edmund grinned over at her, "Beastly white," he said, "and he has sickly green eyes too."

"Red," Peter said quietly, "it's not white."

"His eyes are red?" Susan asked innocently.

Peter grinned and made a grab for her hair, but she jumped out of the way.

"Tag!" Lucy screamed, "Let's play tag!"

"No tag in the house," Susan was firm.

"We ought to do something, and it _is_ raining…" Peter said.

"Yes," Edmund said, "It would rain…"

"Well," Susan said, "we are pretty well off, there's a wireless and lots of books."

"Only war news," Edmund said sadly, but brightened up, "I did see a complete volume of Sherlock Homes on the bookshelf."

"Hide and Seek?" Lucy suggested hopefully.

"Well…I suppose…" Susan said slowly.

"All right!" Peter said, "You're it Su!"

"Why me?" Susan asked.

"Because I say so," Peter said, "and I'm the oldest!"

With shrieks of laughter Lucy and the two boys raced down the hallways in search of hiding places.

* * *

><p>AN If you are interested in what the Professor's house looks like, look up Wakehurst Place.


	3. The Wardrobe

Chapter Three: The Wardrobe

~o*o~

Lucy loved big houses and this house was very nearly the largest she had ever been in. Perhaps _the_ largest. She left the sitting room behind and ran to the end of the hallway. She found herself at the top of a set of narrow stairs and trotted down, it was rather hot like most back stairs in the summertime. She opened the door at the bottom and found herself looking down another long hallway.

Something struck her. It wasn't a thing, it was a feeling, a strange feeling. She went to the end of the hallway, slowly, the floor creaking under her feet. There was a door at the end of the hallway and she reached out and turned the knob.

The door swung open, revealing an empty room. It was bitterly disappointing, because she had almost felt something, _someone_ calling her and it was from that room. She stepped into it and she saw the rain creased window and a dead bluebottle on the sill. There was nothing else in the room. She still felt odd, but as she turned to leave, she saw the wardrobe.

It was in the corner, a tall dark wardrobe, gleaming and beautiful. As she approached the wardrobe, she saw intricate carvings on the door. The carving was of a tall graceful apple tree with a strange sort of bird in the topmost branches. At the base of the tree, looking up at it was a boy in knickerbockers from the turn of the century. Standing in the distance was a horse with wings and standing next to the horse was a girl about the same age as the boy. The knob of the wardrobe had a lion's head engraved on it.

Lucy had, by this time, completely forgotten about hiding and it was the farthest thing from her mind as she reached for the knob of the wardrobe and turned it. It stuck and for a moment she was afraid it would be locked, but finally it turned, the door opened and two mothballs dropped out with a soft pitter – patter onto the floor.

Lucy stepped cautiously into the wardrobe and let the door swing open behind her.

There were heavy fur coats in the wardrobe and she had a consuming desire to know what was behind them. There was a cold draft on her ankles and she looked down to see icy blue light filtering along the floor. She pushed through the coats and stopped.

Icy mist swirled around her, icicles hung from the roof of the wardrobe and in front of her was a deep snowdrift, looking blue in the light of the moon. There were trees, dark prickly things, in front of her and beyond them was mystery.

She stepped into the snow and sank up to her knees. It was bitterly cold and the snow glittered in the moonlight as if stars had somehow gotten trapped in it. She stumbled forward, pushing the trees aside, and found herself in an open place, in the center of which, casting a soft, warm glow, was a lamppost.

Lucy walked to it, looked up at it in wonderment and thought that was odd that there was lamppost in a wood.

"It wouldn't help anybody see, except me, perhaps."

After a moment, she decided to keep exploring. She saw a set of footprints leading away from the lamppost into the woods and began to follow them. They led her into the woods, winding through the darkness. Trees towered above her, black like paper cutouts before the moon. She stumbled in the darkness and her teeth began to chatter. It was bitterly cold. The cold that seems unbearably painful to breathe.

The woods ended abruptly and she looked over a meadow. The footsteps continued, blue shadows in the snow. To the right, the ground sloped up sharply and an unusually large bolder half protruded from the hill.

She followed the footsteps to the boulder, then found that they stopped abruptly. She looked up the boulder, then scrambled up the various crevices until she was standing at the top of it. The whole countryside opened up before her. There were mountains, the like of which she had only seen in pictures of Scotland and Ireland. There were smaller rolling hills and deep cold valleys and thick dark woods. The land seemed to stretch forever in all directions without a light or a sign of life in sight.

Lucy looked down quickly. It seemed almost like someone had slammed a door directly below her. There was merry whistling of a tune she had never heard. She scampered forward and looked over the edge of the boulder to see where the noise was coming from. A small sort of person with curly black hair and a red scarf tied around his neck was just turning around the side of the boulder. Lucy's eyes widened. The strange person had goat's legs instead of human legs and two curling ram's horns stuck out of his black hair.

"Hello," Lucy called, "who are you?"

The person looked up that her and stared for a moment, his eyes going wide and his face going pale. Then he reached up, touched her hand where it clutched the boulder, and started backwards.

"You're human?" his voice ended in a startled squeak.

"Of course I'm a human," Lucy swung her legs over the edge and started to scramble down, "what are you?"

"I –I'm a faun…" he said, then grabbed her hand. "Come inside!"

He pushed her through the door of his house. She wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. The Faun stared out the door for a moment, then closed it.

The faun's house was in the boulder- or behind it. It was warm, small and neat and there was a fire roaring in the hearth. There were deep armchairs in front of the fire and Lucy settled herself in one, still shivering uncontrollably.

"You can probably imagine my surprise to see a human here Narnia," the faun said, coming towards her. "How did you get in?"

"I walked through a door and found myself here…Narnia?" Lucy said the name slowly, "I've never heard of Narnia…are we still in England?"

"Ingle...land?"The faun asked, a puzzled look on his face. "Is it in a proximity to Calormen?"

"No," Lucy said, and then a thought struck her. "I think it was magic…there aren't any people like you in our world…or any countries called Calormen or Narnia…you see I had just been in the spare room when I went into the wardrobe and found myself here."

"You are from the world of Ingle Land, the city of Spare Oom and the Castle of War Drobe?" The faun asked wonderingly, "Is that correct?"

"Sort of," Lucy laughed.

"Daughter of Eve…" the faun started to say.

"My mother's name isn't Eve, its Miriam and my name is Lucy." Lucy said, "What's your name?"

"Tumnus," the faun said, "you look dreadfully cold. Would you like sugar and cream in your tea?"

"Yes please," Lucy said, "I'm very pleased to meet you Mr. Tumnus!"

The faun handed her a teacup and she took it. The tea was unlike anything that she had ever tasted, in fact, it didn't really taste like tea at all, though it was very strong and sweet.

"Are there more of you around?" Tumnus asked nervously sitting in the chair next to her.

"More of _me_?" Lucy asked. "Oh no, but I do have two brothers and a sister and a cousin named Eustace. You can come meet them if you'd like. I think you might like them, actually."

"Oh," the faun said.

"It's so cold here," Lucy said, "But it must be lovely in the summertime."

"Summertime, yes," the faun looked pained, "It wasn't always winter here in Narnia."

"Whatever do you mean?" Lucy asked. "It is always winter?"

"Yes, now." The faun glanced at the door nervously.

"Well," Lucy said, brightening up, "At least you can have Christmas as often as you like."

"Don't even say that word!" the faun exclaimed, leaping up.

"Why not?" Lucy asked.

"It's –it's not allowed," the Tumnus said lamely, "We don't celebrate it anymore."

"Why ever not?" Lucy asked.

"Because-because _she_ doesn't like it…" he trailed off. "I say," he said, fumbling at a little leather case, "Have you ever heard _Twilight Whisper_?"

"No," Lucy said, "what is it?"

The faun pulled out his flute from a little leather case. It was not one flute, but two, joined at the mouthpiece. It was a beautiful thing, Lucy stared at it in amazement, it was made of polished wood and there were designs of leaves curling down the length of it.

Mr. Tumnus put the flute to his lips and played a tune, soft and beautiful, it curled up Lucy's legs, around her arms and shut her eyelids. She was asleep.

* * *

><p>AN. So what do you think so far? Shall I continue?


	4. Shard

Chapter Four: Shard

~o*o~

Someone else heard the low, sweet notes of the flute. A white wolf called Shard slipped noiselessly though the snow to the door of Tumnus's cave.

With his nose to the ground, the wolf smelled the footprints of Tumnus…and another. Human!

Shard lifted a paw and scratched at the door, "Open up!" he hissed, "Name of the Queen!"

Inside the cave, Tumnus stopped playing and stared with horror, first at the door, then at Lucy sleeping in the chair.

"Oh Aslan, what have I done?" he gasped.

"Open up!" the persistent voice came at the door. "Or will I have to break it down?"

Tumnus stood and hurried to the door, he opened it a crack and looked out.

"Yes?" he asked timidly.

"Human detected," Shard said, his head cocked to one side. "Is there one around?"

"Human?" Tumnus's mouth went dry.

"Well, no matter," Shard said. "We'll let it go this time, see that it doesn't happen again." He turned away, when Tumnus had opened the door he had seen all he needed to know. A little girl human, sleeping in front of the fire.

Tumnus closed the door and barred it. Shaking in his hoofs, he collapsed into a chair and began to weep.

Lucy woke with a start. "Mr. Tumnus, what's wrong?"

"Oh, I've done something terrible," Mr. Tumnus wailed, "I've betrayed you to the Secret Police!"

"Me?" Lucy said in horror. "Why me?" she had no idea what the 'Secret Police' was, but she could imagine, from the tone the faun had used, that it was something equivalent to the Gestapo. She dug through her pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Tumnus.

"Because you're human that's why!" Mr. Tumnus said, sniffling and blowing his nose on the handkerchief. "You were a stranger so I didn't want to tell you and you were such good company!"

"But what to do the Secret Police want with me?" Lucy gasped. "Why do they want a human? Are there any Jews in Narnia?"

"It's the White Witch, she is behind it all!" Tumnus said. "She's the one who has made it always winter here, winter for a hundred years, cold, stark, horrible. No Christmas. She watches everyone, everyone!"

"Legend has it that if a human gets into Narnia the witch's winter will be no more," Tumnus went on. "That's why she's on such careful watch for humans."

"I must go home then!" Lucy cried. "I can't stay a moment longer!"

"Of course Daughter of Eve, of course!" the Faun said. "There's no question of your staying."

"Do you think you could show me to the lamppost?" Lucy asked. "I think I can find my way from there."

"Of course, of course," the faun exclaimed. "that's the least I can do."

They went silently and quickly. The faun took longer strides than Lucy and he had to keep slowing down so she could keep up. Mr. Tumnus stayed in the shadows and kept looking back. It seemed almost like something was following them, like a white shadow, but whenever they looked it was gone.

The lamppost stood in the middle of its clearing casting soft yellow light as if nothing exciting was going on, or perhaps the lamppost had seen so much excitement in its days that one little girl and a faun running away from a witch didn't bother it. Mr. Tumnus and Lucy halted there.

"Daughter of Eve," Mr. Tumnus said. "Please forgive me!"

"Of course I'll forgive you; it was a lovely meeting you!" Lucy said.

"Are you quite, quite sure you will be all right now? Is Spare Oom far from here?"

"Yes," Lucy said, "I can just see the light from here."

"Perhaps I might keep your handkerchief to remember you by?"

"Of course!" Lucy said. "And I shan't forget _you_!"

She could just see the light from the wardrobe and she ran to it. A moment more and she was among the coats and safe in the spare room. Lucy opened the door and raced down the hallway, the only thought in her mind was to tell the others about what happened.

~o*o~

You mean you don't believe me?" Lucy gasped.

"I don't see how we could Lu, it's an awfully nice story and all…" Peter began.

"Story? Story?" Lucy squeaked. "It's not a story; it happened! I didn't make it up, I didn't! I was running away in peril of my life!"

Eustace had just been awakened from his nap and came in the den in a foul mood, "Shut up little brat; we don't want to hear you."

"Oh you beasts!" Lucy yelled, and ran away crying, slamming the door behind her.

"Now look what you've done squirt!" Peter yelled, turning on Eustace.

"Little grub!" Edmund muttered.

"Oh, do be quiet Ed!" Susan called over her shoulder as she ran after Lucy.

~o*o~

"But what should we do?" Susan asked, "It isn't as if there are magical lands in wardrobes, it's preposterous!"

"I don't know," Peter said. "I really don't know."

"Maybe she'll forget about it," Edmund said. "I think the best thing we can do is not to talk to her about it; keep it mum."

"Agreed," Peter said.

* * *

><p>AN: This is still going very much like LWW, but in the next few chapters it will start to be very different.


	5. Eustace Wakes Up

This chapter is a bit of a filler... and it's a bit silly, sorry! But still...

* * *

><p>Chapter Five: Eustace Wakes Up<p>

~o*o~

Two weeks went by. Those last days of September suddenly decided to be warm and beautiful and Lucy began to wonder if she had actually dreamt the whole thing. They played cricket, explored the woods, went swimming in the lake and the professor found them an old rowboat; with it, they explored the shore of the lake, imagining they were explorers on a distant, unknown coast.

"I wonder if there are any cannibals?" Lucy had wondered.

Then another day of rain came, and the five children were cooped up in the house again, listening to the Andrews Sisters intermixed with news about the German Pocket Battleship _Admiral Graf Spee _and how it was on a hunting spree in the Atlantic. Poland had finally fallen and the Axis powers were turning to inspect new prey. Russia invaded Latvian air space and Germany was beginning to think about Belgium. British troops were moving in to intercept.

"Why can't we come up with something interesting to do?" Eustace mumbled.

"Like what?" Peter asked.

"What about my insect book?" Eustace suggested. "That's pretty interesting."

Lucy turned slightly green.

"Do you think we will have rain tomorrow, too?" Susan asked, changing subject.

~o*o~

"I think we have rain today," Lucy stood in her pajamas, looking dismally out the window as the rain came pouring down.

"Oh," Susan said, "I hope it won't be a day like yesterday."

~o*o~

"Oh Edmund, stir a leg…"

Edmund squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to hear Peter's persistent voice. "Wake me up in the morning Pete." Edmund murmured.

"It_ is _morning Ed!" Peter said, "The Nile is not a river in Egypt."

Edmund sat bolt upright, "of course it is!"

"You are denied that its daytime, so I'm going to deny that the Nile is a river in Egypt." Peter reasoned.

"That's pathetic, Peter," Edmund mumbled, "You don't know any logic."

That's when Edmund saw the window.

"Oh it would be raining!" he moaned. "What are we going to do today? not what we did yesterday I _hope_."

"Well we could explore the house, we haven't gotten to do that yet," Peter suggested. "But put on your clothes, we still have to wake up Eustace."

~o*o~

Peter and Edmund stood one on either side of Eustace's bed.

"How are we going to go about this?" Edmund asked, pulling the blankets off of Eustace, who curled up into a ball. "Just like a grub."

"Well we can each take an end, stick him in the bathtub and run cold water on his feet," Peter said, "one…two…three... heave!"

They lifted Eustace and the latter swung between them, still fast asleep.

"He's awfully heavy," Edmund gasped, "I'm not sure if I can hold him."

"Of course you can!" Peter called encouragement and his younger brother. "A little more to the left Ed."

~o*o~

"What's all the noise in the boys room?" Susan asked as she finished braiding Lucy's hair in two stubby little braids.

"I don't know," Lucy said, "do you think it has something to do with the boys?"

"I _know_ it has something to do with the boys," Susan said grimly.

Both girls went to the door, opened it and looked out in the hallway just in time to see the boys come down the hallway with Eustace slung between them.

"Oh Peter! what have you done?" Susan cried, catching Eustace's feet just as Edmund dropped them.

"We are just waking him up," Peter explained.

"I'll say!" Susan exclaimed.

"We were just going to stick him in the bathtub and run cold water over his feet," Peter said, "nothing drastic."

Susan snorted.

Lucy laughed.

They reached the bathroom and carefully lowered Eustace into the tub.

"Is he still sleeping?" Lucy asked.

"Yes," Edmund said, "snoring too."

"Jolly loudly," Peter said, "now you'll bunch get out of here, then I'll turn the water on and run for it."

Peter waited for them to get out the hallway before he turned the water on. No one ran as fast as Peter did at that moment, but Eustace's shriek was well worth the effort.

As soon as Eustace was awake enough to figure out what happened his face turned very red and he bolted out of the bathtub. He raced into the hallway and nearly collided with Edmund and Peter coming out of the boys' room.

"There are only four people in this house who could've done that," Eustace's voice shook with emotion, "and there are only two that are big enough!"

Giggles emitted from the cracked door of the girls room. Eustace spun around and the door slammed shut.

"You're going to pay, Peter Pevensie," Eustace's voice was very low, then he turned around with a flourish that he tried to make impressive and stormed into the boys' room, slamming the door hard behind him.


	6. The Wardrobe Again

Chapter Six: The Wardrobe Again

~o*o~

When they finally all met in the upstairs den, Peter announced that he was going to explore the house.

Susan at first didn't like the idea, but the others overruled her.

They started by going down the hallway, because Susan said this was the most sensible way to start. At the end of the hallway was a door. They opened it and found themselves in a big green room all hung with pictures, at one end of the room was a suit of armor. Both Peter and Edmund were completely fascinated with this discovery.

"I say, do you think I could try putting it on?" Peter asked.

"We, none of us are going to put on," Susan said firmly.

Peter looked disappointed, but Edmund saw the gleam in his eye and knew that the suit of armor was not going to remain dormant for long.

"What would you want with a rusty bit of sheet metal, anyway?" Eustace muttered, dearly wishing he had thought of putting it on first.

They walked out of the door at the other end of the green room and found themselves in another hallway. They walked down it looking into various rooms, some empty, some bedrooms, some just dusty.

There was a place where there were two steps down and three up and they found themselves walking out on to the balcony overlooking the grand entrance way and the great red carpeted staircase.

Then there was another hallway, a long one, and a flight of stairs going up. At the top was a door. Peter opened it.

They all found themselves in a very odd sort of room. It was beautifully furnished, mostly from the Victorian era. Most odd of all, there were all sorts of scientific apparatus and chemical baubles and gadgets. There was a bubbling sound and steam was rising from a particularly long and convoluted glass tube.

Quite suddenly, the high-backed chair in front of the fire jerked back and an unusually tall and singularly skinny man stood and turned to look at them. He had very high, sharp cheekbones, shaggy eyebrows and hair so white it almost glowed. Lucy thought he looked very frightening.

"Oh, we're so sorry for disturbing you!" Susan exclaimed. "We didn't know."

"No, no, of course not, of course not," the man said, "You weren't to know, my nephew must have forgotten to tell you about me. Have you been here long? Did you arrive this morning?"

"We've been here for over two weeks already," Susan said. "Mr. Kirke did tell us about you, you must be Uncle Andrew."

"The same," Uncle Andrew replied with a slight bow.

"Are you a scientist?" Edmund asked with interest.

For the first time, Uncle Andrew's face glowed with genuine pleasure. "I'd like to think so."

"What is this for?" Peter asked, pointing at the especially lengthy, elaborate and torrid glass tube on the table.

"That…that well," Uncle Andrew rubbed his hands, "that's an invention of my own. It's supposed to turn lead into gold. It hasn't worked yet, but I'm still perfecting it."

"Oh," Susan said. "It looks very beautiful. It really does."

"And what's that for?" Lucy asked pointing at a singularly strange chair cobbled together from corrugated steel, bits of a wrought iron railing, some aluminum conduit, hundred year old flatirons, old porcelain doorknobs and various fire equipment; pokers, shovels and a bellows.

"That," Uncle Andrew looked at his invention proudly, "That is a travelling chair. If it will ever work, it will take me out of this world into other ones."

"I-I don't think there are other worlds," Susan said as gently as she could.

"Nonsense," Uncle Andrew replied, "I've been to other worlds myself."

They stared at him.

"It's been very nice talking to you," Susan said, glancing at Lucy, "But I really rather think we'd better go."

"You've really been to other worlds?" Lucy asked, breathless. Susan took her hand and dragged her out of the room, Edmund and Eustace followed. Peter turned to go, but a strong, boney hand caught his shoulder. He looked back.

"Watch that one," Uncle Andrew whispered, pointing to Eustace's form as it retreated down the stairwell. "He's not safe."

"All right," Peter said.

Uncle Andrew nodded and smiled, closing the door as Peter galloped down the stairs.

The hallway they found themselves in at the bottom took a sharp right turn and they opened the door at the end of it. Lucy realized with a gasp that they were in the hallway off of which the spare room was.

Lucy lagged behind and finally, when she thought the others out of sight she turned to the door of the spare room felt the knob and with a thrill of excitement she turned it and walked into the room. The wardrobe stood, calm and inviting, in the corner.

~o*o~

Lucy had thought that no one had seen her, but Eustace had. And Edmund, the last in line had seen Eustace creep after her. He stopped, while the voices of Peter and Susan turned the corner, and went back.

Queer, that tingling that went through him as he turned the knob. Very queer. The door swung open and he saw Eustace just stepping into the wardrobe.

"Hey little brat!" Eustace called softly, "Where's your secret world?"

Edmund strode across the room, just as Eustace closed the wardrobe door after himself.

"Little idiot," Edmund said, opening it again, "He could trap Lucy in there."

"Lucy?" Eustace's voice quivered near the back of the wardrobe. Edmund brushed away the coats, then stopped.

He found Eustace alone, standing at the brink of Narnia, too scared to go forward and too curious to go back.

Edmund was almost too stunned to speak. Lucy had been right then, there was a world in the wardrobe. Edmund glanced over his shoulder into the spare room and saw it, warm and solid.

Eustace looked up at the ice coated trees and the snow falling gently down, but Edmund could only see the lonely footsteps of Lucy disappearing into the woods.

"Come on, lets follow her," Edmund said, if what Lucy said was right about a witch on the loose, he hated the thought of Lucy out there, all alone.

"You're not getting me out there," Eustace said worriedly, "It might be dangerous!"

"But that's just why we have to find her, squirt!" Edmund cried, plunging knee deep into the snow.

Eustace could not and would not be called a squirt by someone who was younger than him, "You take that back, fiend!" he cried leaping on Edmund's back and driving his face in the snow. He knew very well that he was heavier and stronger.

~o*o~

Lucy knocked eagerly at Mr. Tumnus's door and the faun was not happy to see her.

"Lucy!" he dragged her in, "you should _not _be here!"

"I just wanted to see if you were all right," Lucy explained.

"Oh, I'm fine but you won't be if you keep coming here," Mr. Tumnus said. "It's very dangerous."

"It's too cold to go back just yet," Lucy dropped down on the mat in front of the fire, "will you tell me some stories about Narnia? I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

~o*o~

Edmund, though two years younger, was two inches taller then Eustace and he was angrier, so he won the fight in the end. He had a healthy black eye and Eustace's nose was bleeding.

"Come on we have wasted enough time already!" Edmund said following Lucy's footprints in the snow.

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Eustace howled after him.

"Stay there then!" Edmund called over his shoulder.

Eustace plumped back into the snow, feeling very sorry for himself. He thought he might go back into the wardrobe and go to bed, but then he decided that he ought to go explore more and get a ball of snow to stick on his poor nose.

He wandered through the woods until he reached the lamppost. He looked up at it for a moment and wondered, like Lucy, why there was a lamppost in the middle of a wood. It was so cold and he hugged himself, his teeth chattering. He thought dark thoughts about Edmund.

"I hate you!" he called through the still air after Edmund's running footprints.

He walked a little further and came to a flat place which he concluded was a road, the snow had been packed down and it was ready for a sleigh.

~o*o~

Edmund plunged wearily through the snow after Lucy's footprints. It was bitterly cold and he hoped that he'd find her soon. His eye smarted and he picked up a snowball to put on it.

It wasn't too long before Lucy's footsteps mingled with those of another and Edmund had trouble seeing which was which.

He followed them until they forked and he followed the left fork. After a little while he tripped and fell, when he looked up he saw, a few yards ahead of him, a white wolf, looking over its shoulder.

Edmund stayed very still and saw that he had been following its footsteps, not Lucy's. He lay there, breathing hard while the wolf's searing blue eyes examined him from head to toe.

"I'm not scared of you," Edmund murmured.

The wolf blinked, then loped away.

Edmund let his breath out with a gasp, got up and retraced his foot prints. Finally he reached the fork and followed Lucy's footsteps to a door in the side of a huge boulder. Cautiously he reached up and knocked.

* * *

><p>AN A little more exciting, eh?


	7. The Queen

The Queen

Eustace was startled to hear the soft shish of sleigh bells just as he started thinking about them. He peered down the road and just saw two bobbing lumps that formed into a pair of snowwhite horses pulling a sleigh.

As they swept into sight Eustace saw that they were driven by a black dwarf and reclining in the back sat a great lady dressed in shimmering white.

She was tall and beautiful, the most beautiful person Eustace had ever seen. Her black hair fell to her waist and her slender, white hands were crossed on her lap over something that gleamed silver. As the Lady's eyes met Eustace's, he saw that they were green, green as poison.

"Halt," her voice rang out, soft and commanding.

"Whoa!" the dwarf howled and the horses slid down on their haunchs as they attempted to stop. They snorted and the icicles that had frozen on their noses shattered and fell to the ground. The horse closest to Eustace turned its head and looked at him wide eyed, then it layed its ears back and shook its head.

Slowly, gracefully, the lady stood and stepped from the sleigh. She walked slowly though the snow, partly towards Eustace, but she didn't look at him. She ran her hands along the horse's back and it shivered and shrank from her touch.

"Son of Adam," she said, her voice was as gentle as a feather. Slowly she turned to him, "how cold you look!"

She put an arm around his shoulders and agianst his will he shrank from her as the horse had. Her arm was so cold it burned.

"Let us go sit in the sleigh! Then I can wrap my mantle around you!"

They walked to the sleigh and fumblingly Eustace sat in it. The lady wraped her mantle around him and cold began to sink into his brain.

"Now," she said, "tell me about yourself," she asked, "What's your name? do you have any siblings?"

"No ma'am," Eustace said, he could feel it somehow, a misty feeling beginning to grow on him. "but I have cousins…I'm the oldest," he lied with great brevity.

"Cousins," she stroked his hair, "how many?"

"There are four of us," Eustace said, "me, Susan, Lucy and Peter."

"Four of you…" she said softly, her face gentle. "Son of Adam, you look so cold, perhaps you would like something hot to drink?"

"Yes…" Eustace said, wondering where she would get it from.

The lady slipped a small bottle from her sleeve, held it over the snow next to the sleigh and let a drop fall. The liquid was green as the lady's eyes.

The drop hit the ground with a soft hissing sound.

For a moment nothing seemed to happen, then something started to grow. A group of fine silver wires were coming up in a small circle. Slowly, of their own accord they began to twine themselves more and more intricately and tightly until they had formed a cup that was completely made up of silver wires. A hot reddish liquid sprang up from the bottom and the snow around the cup melted from the heat.

At a command from the lady the dwarf hopped down from the sleigh and handed the cup to Eustace.

Eustace took a sip, it seemed sweet at first and then it seemed to get a bitter flavor. The more he drank it the more he liked it.

~o*o~

Edmund heard footsteps coming to the door, he heard the scrape of a bar being lifted, the door creaked open and a worried, pointed face peeked out with two curling horns sticking out of curly black hair.

"Hello," Edmund said, staring incredulously, "is my sister here?"

The faun responded by grabbing his arm, lugging him though the door and slamming it shut.

"Lucy!" the faun gasped, "you really have to get out of here! That knock almost gave me a heart attack…what if it was the Secret Police?"

"Edmund!" Lucy looked up, "So you got in too! This is Mr. Tumnus, we were just talking about Jadis, the White Witch and how she rides around in a sleigh drawn by two snow white horses and she turns people to stone with her silver wand! Oh! And did you know it's been three months since I was here last?"

"I think Mr. Tumnus is right," Edmund said, "I saw a white wolf on the way over."

Mr. Tumnus went very white, "did it see you?"

"Yes," Edmund said.

"And he didn't do anything to you?" Mr. Tumnus sat down hard, "that was Shard, he's brother to Maugrim who is the captain of the Secret Police."

"Edmund!" Lucy stood up, "what did you do to your eye?"

"Oh, that…" Edmund touched his black eye tenderly, "Eustace got in too…no, he's not here, I left him at the wardrobe…we got into a fight."

"Well," Lucy said, "I suppose we should go now."

"Yes," Edmund said, "I _suppose_ we should! Come on!"

"Good bye Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy called over her shoulder as Edmund pulled her out the door.

~o*o~

Eustace drained the last drop from the cup and looked up to see a white wolf trotting towards the sleigh.

"Ah, Shard!" the lady reached out and stroked Shard's head, "stay here."

"Yes your Majesty," Shard bowed and dropped into the snow next to the sleigh, laying his slim white muzzle on his outstretched paws.

"Now, Eustace," the lady said, smiling sweetly, "You look like a very intelligent boy."

"Oh yes," Eustace agreed blandly.

"Since I have no heirs and think you are such a fine, smart boy I might make you king someday! But a king needs courtiers…would you bring your cousins to me some time?"

"I'll try my best," Eustace said, he wondered if it would be possible to wipe away the mist filling his brain. "But how am I to find you again?"

"Ah," the lady turned in the sleigh and pointed, "do you see those two hills?"

"Yes," Eustace said.

"My house is between those two hills," the lady said, "now go, but remember to come back soon!"

"Yes, your majesty," Eustace said, it seemed that his body was refusing to work. The lady smiled, then took his face in her hands and kissed him, then kissed him again.

"No more kisses now, or I would kill you with them."

Eustace nodded mutely and got out of the sleigh, the lady gave the word to the dwarf and the dwarf swung his whip over the horses' backs. They started as if they had been shot and broke into a canter. Shard was up in a moment and bounded after them.

Eustace was left staring at the tracks of the runners in the snow. For a moment, he couldn't move at all, then his brain decided to go back because he was cold and had a headache. He turned and stumbled through the snow towards the lamppost.

"She said she would," he thought to himself, "she said she might make me king!"

But that 'might' hung on the frosty air, untouched.

He battled his way through the branches of the trees, then stepped up into the wardrobe. Suddenly, he was knocked hard from behind and landed flat on his face on the floor. Something heavy was on top of him.

"Oh," Lucy's cheerful voice came from above him, "Sorry Eustace, I didn't see you."

Edmund picked Lucy up from off of Eustace, "Come on everyone," he said, "Let's go tell the others.


	8. The Professor Decides

Chapter Eight: The Professor Decides

* * *

><p>"Um," Peter tried not to laugh, "Is that Logical, Ed?"<p>

"No," Edmund said, "but it happened."

"It really happened! It happened just as much as last time!" Lucy cried.

Peter leaned back in his chair, "So you all say you've been to a magical land in a wardrobe?" he asked incredulously

"I didn't say so," Eustace said.

Edmund and Lucy stared at him.

"We were just pretending that Lucy's land was real, it passed the time." Eustace said. "It was Edmund's idea."

"Eustace!" Lucy cried, breaking into tears, "No one will ever believe me!"

"Lucy…" Susan said, Lucy pushed her away and ran out of the room.

"Edmund?" Peter turned on his brother. "It was you're idea?"

"No," Edmund for once was lost for words, "he – he got in! We had a fight there. I would never…" he faltered, realizing that Eustace had the stronger case.

"You donkey, Edmund!" Peter exclaimed. "And she had forgotten it! Now you've gone and set her off again! And Eustace…!" Peter turned on his cousin.

"I'm not going to stay and be lectured," Eustace said. He left, slamming the door behind him.

"Edmund!" Peter turned on Edmund again. "Why can't you ever learn?"

"I didn't!" Edmund exclaimed, staring up at Peter's blazing eyes.

"I can tell you didn't!" Peter's face looked like a thunderstorm.

"Why don't you and Su come and look at the wardrobe," Edmund said quickly, before Peter got his breath. "Narnia might be gone again, but it's worth looking."

"Oh, all right!" Peter said, "Come on Su."

When they reached the spare room, the wardrobe was reflected in a puddle of melting snow upon the floor. The room felt cold and it smelled of the great outdoors. Peter opened the door of the wardrobe and climbed in. The back of the wardrobe was hard and cold, Peter knocked on it and it sounded like any ordinary wardrobe.

"Well," he said, coming out again, "I can't explain the snow, but there is a back on that wardrobe," then he burst out, "But it's all impossible! How could it be?"

Susan tapped the snow with the toe of her shoe, "of course it's impossible."

"Well," Edmund said, "its jolly well true!"

Peter shot him a withering glance.

"It's no use standing around here," Susan said before Peter could say anything, "it's cold and we really have to do something about your eye, Ed, stop rubbing it."

Edmund started to follow Susan out the door, then stopped to inspect the dead bluebottle on the windowsill, "Eustace would like looking at that."

~o*o~

"What are we going to do about it?" Peter said. "I can't believe that Edmund would do that. He always has been the truest, bravest. He _doesn't _lie."

"I know," Susan said, "I suppose we could write mother."

The two elders were sitting in the upstairs den long after the others had gone to sleep.

"Maybe he and Lucy are making up a story so they can go back to London," Peter suggested lamely.

"But they seemed perfectly happy," Susan said, "And Edmund didn't believe it anymore than we did, before."

"It all seems very complicated." Peter remarked.

"And what about the snow?" Susan asked remembering. "There's no way to can explain that away!"

"I think we should talk to the professor," Peter said, "He might know what to do."

"Right," Susan said, "We'll talk to him first thing in the morning."

They went to bed; Susan had nightmares about snow on the floor in a house in the middle of summer. Peter dreamed about magical lands thick with adventures and beautiful swords. Edmund dreamed about white wolves, their piercing blue eyes and angry older brothers with burning brown eyes. Lucy dreamed about dryads and talking rabbits. And Eustace? His heart was turning cold; he could feel it, a burning frozen pain in his chest. It frightened him.

~o*o~

The next morning Peter, with Susan behind him, knocked cautiously at the door of Professor Kirke's study.

"Come in!" came the eager call.

Peter opened the door and the two of them walked in.

"Well, well, what a surprise! Do sit down," the professor said, "Now what would you like to tell me about? I'm all ears."

"It's our sister and brother and cousin, sir," Susan said, getting over her shyness and coming out from behind Peter, "something is going on."

"Oh, really? Is that true?" the professor looked at her encouragingly.

"Yes," Susan went on, inspired by his interest, "It all started when my sister said she found a magical land in one of your wardrobes last week. She called it Narnia and says that she met a satyr there, saw a lamppost and she says it was snowing. She said she had tea with the satyr, then she came back. Oh, she said the satyr said there was an evil witch there.

"We thought she had forgotten it, but yesterday she brought it up again and my younger brother says that he was there, too. My cousin says it was all rot, but Edmund and Lucy said that he was there too."

"Oh really," the professor nodded a few times, "and pray, what are you worried about dear girl?"

Susan's jaw dropped.

"We are just afraid there might be something wrong with them," Peter said, "or they are lying. She sticks to it you see, she swears they really were there. Edmund, up to yesterday thought it was all a joke, but now he's deadly serious."

"You think they might be mad, then?" the professor laughed, "you may rest easy there, they are not mad. If they were mad then they would be wondering about the house pointlessly and I would have gotten rid of them long ago, as for lying…which is generally the more truthful? Your sister and brother or your cousin?"

"Up till now I would say Edmund and Lucy," Peter said. "Somehow I can't disbelieve them even now."

"I'll have to agree with Peter," Susan put in.

"There, you see then," the professor said, "if they are not mad and they are not lying, then they must be telling the truth. What else could it be but the truth? Nothing is more logical." The professor looked up suddenly, "How, long was your sister in the wardrobe the first time?"

"Oh, not long," Susan said. "We were playing hide and seek and I was counting. I counted to two minutes and she was back before I finished."

"Well," The professor said, leaning back and pressing the tips of his fingers together, "How probable is it that your sister could have come up with a Magical land with a name and a satyr and a witch all in less than two minutes?"

"Maybe she came up with it beforehand," Peter said.

"Did she mention anything that might have something to do with it to any of you beforehand?" the professor asked.

"No, at least, nothing I can think of," Susan said.

"And that brings up another point." The professor said, "Your sister is at an age that if she were to come up with a story like that, it would be a whopper. Nothing so mundane as having tea with a satyr. She would at least have killed a few giants while she was at it, or even disposed of the witch. Logic! What do they teach them in these schools?"

He put on his spectacles and began writing on a sheet of paper, "logic, logic, what do they teach them in these schools?" he murmured.

"But sir?" Peter said, "A magical land?"

"It's impossible!" Susan exclaimed.

The professor looked up again and whipped off his spectacles, "what's so impossible about it? My dear people please use your imaginations."

Peter and Susan stared at each other, then at the professor, who was writing again.

"Well," Peter stood up, "I suppose we should go now, we've taken up lots of your time already."

"Well have a nice day, you two," the Professor said, looking up and polishing his spectacles, "Oh, and while I'm thinking about it, I should tell you that this is a very grand house, some people like to come and see it. So I would advise you to keep away from my housekeeper while she has a tour, she's quite touchy about these things. Oh, and Mrs. Kirke is arriving here the day after tomorrow from her mother's."

"How-how is her mother?" Susan asked shyly.

"Very well actually," The professor said, "she had pneumonia, but she has heeled quite nicely."

"Thank you very much for your advice, sir," Peter said.

"Gladly given," the professor said, "One more thing: Please avoid putting the suit of amour on while my housekeeper is in the area, it upsets her immensely. Before you put it on just make sure she's not around."

"Yes sir," Peter said sheepishly.

"Well, how do you like that?" Peter said as he closed the door, "that chap believes them! I feel like everybody is going insane! Eustace included."

"Peter Pevensie, you didn't put that suit of amour _on_!" Susan started to stalk him down the hallway.

"Well…um…"

~o*o~

"How could you, Eustace?" Edmund hissed, backing Eustace into a corner. "He doesn't believe me now! You know what that means? It means he'll never trust me again!"

"Mind your own business, Edmund," Eustace said.

"My own business?" Edmund exclaimed, "You've ruined my business! You've ruined everything!"

"Go away." Eustace said. "Or else I'll punch your nose, even if I am a pacifist."

"Look here, Edmund," Peter said, spinning his brother around, "Stop torturing him, he doesn't deserve it."

Edmund stared at him a moment, then shook free and stalked down the hallway to find Lucy.

"He is such a little liar," Eustace said lightly. "So's Lucy," he added for good measure.

Peter looked down at him in disgust, then walked after Edmund.

Edmund looked back, then turned into the den and tried to close the door. Peter caught it and followed him in.

"Look, Edmund," Peter began. "We said we'd keep it mum. Let's forget about the whole thing."

"Can't." Edmund said. "Don't you understand? I was there! I can't just say it didn't happen, that would be lying."

Peter stared at him wide eyed.

"Are you all right?" he asked at last.

"No." Edmund muttered.

"Well," Peter paused. "Let's…let's go take apart that suit of armor."

"Right," Edmund said miserably, "Might as well learn how, Narnia looks like the sort of place where one might need a suit of armor."

Peter stared at him.


	9. Narnia

Chapter Nine: Narnia

Edmund looked out the door, then closed it softly.

"Is she in sight?" Peter asked.

"No," Edmund came over, "We'd better start while she's not around."

Then, like two hounds, they attacked the suit of amour and started to dismantle it.

"Here are the grieves," Edmund said, "Where shall I put them?"

"Just stick them on the floor, under the piano," Peter said, "where we won't tread on them."

Suits of amour. Gleaming, old and mysterious. Peter caught himself thinking about riding to joust in one and Edmund brought to mind how fat Henry the eighth was and how when he wore his suit of amour he had to be lifted on his horse with a crane.

"Poor horse," Edmund murmured.

"What?" Peter asked absently.

The armour was very old and so exquisitely decorated and scrolled over with images of jousts and fox hunts and parties and battles that they were both quite certain that whoever had owned it wore it only to parades.

"What's that?" Peter asked, looking up.

"Someone's in a hurry," Edmund noted.

Suddenly the door burst open and Susan, Lucy and Eustace galloped through.

"It's Mrs. Macready and a tour!" Susan gasped, "Oh, Peter! Not the suit of amour! Not now!"

"Golly," Peter said standing up, "let's get to our rooms quick!"

They stampeded out of the green room and down the hallway, but they heard footsteps.

"Back!" Peter hissed, "Back to the green room!"

They hurried back and went through the door at the other end just as the knob on the first door started to turn, letting in the tour.

They stood in the hallway with their ears to the door.

"She's coming this way!" Susan said, "Come on!"

They ran to the end of the hallway and trotted down the stairs.

"I say," Lucy said looking longingly at the door at the end of that hall, "Let's hide in the room with the wardrobe, nobody will go in there!"

"No," said Susan, but they heard footsteps on the top step of the stair and Peter hustled them into the spare room.

"Well," Susan said, "they will be gone soon and we can get out."

Eustace noticed the dead bluebottle on the windowsill for the first time and went over to look at it.

"Calliphora vomitoria," He murmured.

They all stood, eyeing the wardrobe with warily. The wood gleamed in the grey light steaming through the window and the carvings had never looked more beautiful.

"It is such a lovely thing," Susan said softly. She stepped forward and touched the polished wood. She gasped.

"What?" Peter asked.

"It shocked me."

"Wood can't shock people."

Edmund caught Lucy's eyes and Eustace was going decidedly green.

"I think the rain is letting up," Eustace said faintly. They all looked to the windows. The rain was coming ever harder.

There was a softly sound behind them and Peter glanced back. The doors of the wardrobe were swinging open quietly and a breath of cold wind ruffled the coats.

"It's so cold in here," Susan said, staring miserably out the window, "I suppose the Macready is gone by now."

Peter walked forward slowly. He could see faint blue light, snow, branches. Lucy glanced around and caught his stricken eyes. She smiled. Slowly, he stepped into the wardrobe and walked forward.

"Peter," Susan said, "What are you doing…oh my goodness…don't go in there! Peter!"

She ran forward, intending to pull him out. He stepped into the snow and she stumbled after him and fell to her knees.

"This can't be happening!" Susan cried, pulling her hands out of the snow.

"Told you it was there," Lucy's voice came from behind them, jolting them back to reality.

They turned around to see Lucy standing in the wardrobe with Edmund standing behind her, flashing one of his rare grins. Eustace was behind looking half scared, half longing.

"So you did get in, Eustace!" Peter said, "And you made out they were telling lies! You little beast!"

Eustace just stared at him wide eyed and Peter turned away, too disgusted for words, he knew there was nothing he could say, Eustace would never listen. He turned to Lucy and Edmund.

"Can you forgive me for not believing you?" he asked, "I'm most awfully sorry."

"Of course!" said Lucy, "the only thing that matters is that you believe us now!"

"Shake?" Peter asked.

He shook hands with Edmund, but hugged Lucy and swung her around.

"We can't really blame you anyway," Edmund said, grinning. "It _is_ rather impossible."

"Completely impossible," Peter said, laughing, "Where shall we go first?"

"We aren't' going anywhere until we put on some of those coats in the wardrobe," Susan said, pulling some down.

"I say," Lucy said, "I never thought of that!"

"And it isn't as if we are even taking them out of the wardrobe," Edmund reasoned.

"Logic." Peter said, grinning.

Once everyone had put on a coat Peter turned to Lucy and Edmund, "So, where _shall_ we go first?"

"I think Lucy should decide that," Edmund said, looking at her.

"Let's go visit Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy cried.

"Mr. Tumnus it is," Peter said, "He's that satyr you were talking about?"

"Yes," Lucy said, "Right this way!"

She plunged bravely through the snow, like a great galleon at the head of its fleet. She reached the lamppost and looked around, waiting for Susan to react.

"I wonder why there is a lamppost in the middle of a wood?" Susan asked as they looked up at it, "It just isn't practical."

"Not only is it unpractical, its impossible," Peter said, looking up at it, "It's a gas lamppost and who finds gas lines in the middle of a wood?"

"Maybe there are new technologies here," Edmund suggested. "But why would the witch be riding about in a sleigh if she could have some sort of electric snow-mobile?"

They all digested this carefully.

"See," Lucy said, and suddenly had the undivided attention of everyone, "Over there is where I first saw Mr. Tumnus's footsteps."

They continued on after Lucy, admiring the wood which was obviously very old. Soon they reached the little clearing where Mr. Tumnus's cave was and Lucy trotted happily down to the door…and stopped with a little cry.

"What is it, Lu?" Peter called. And the others hurried to catch up.

Then they saw for themselves.

The door of Tumnus's cave was broken and hung on one hinge. Shattered glass littered the snow in front of the door and the snow was trampled with large paw prints.

"What happened?" asked Susan.

Lucy was already tugging the door open. Edmund helped. It came aside and they walked inside with the others following. It was very dark. It was chaos. The leather chairs in front of the fire were slashed. Pictures were shattered on the floor; books had their pages torn off.

Edmund picked up one and read the title, _Is Man A Myth?_

"Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy called, her voice echoing strangely.

"I'm afraid he's not here anymore, Lu," Peter said, "I'm sorry."

"Something dreadful's happened," Susan said, looking around. "Be careful not to tread on the glass."

"What-what could have happened?" Lucy asked, her voice quavering.

"Secret police?" Edmund suggest, "Look here, Lucy, don't cry."

Peter reached up and tore a piece of paper from where it had been nailed to a beam.

"There's writing on it," he said. "It's too dark to read it in here, let's go outside."

They filed out and stood in the snow while Peter read the paper.

"The former occupants of these premises, the Faun Tumnus, is under arrest and awaiting his trial on a charge of High Treason against her Imperial Majesty Jadis, Queen of Narnia, Chatelaine of Cair Paravel, Empress of the Lone Islands, etc., also of comforting her said Majesty's enemies, harboring spies and fraternizing with humans. Singed, Maugrim, Captain of the Secret Police, long live the queen!"

"That's Mr. Tumnus!" said Lucy in a hushed tone, "they've got Mr. Tumnus, they'll turn him to stone!"

"Who's Maugrim?" Peter asked, handing the paper to Edmund.

"The Captain of the Secret Police of course," Edmund said.

Peter grinned, "No, I mean what is he? He can't be a man."

"Well," Edmund said, "His brother is a wolf, so I would assume that he is a wolf as well."

"You know his brother?" Lucy said.

"Not exactly," Edmund said, "remember the white wolf I ran into on the way here last time?"

"Rather," Lucy said.

"Well that was Shard," Edmund said, "Mr. Tumnus said that he was Maugrim's brother."

"Well," Lucy said, "We have to go save Mr. Tumnus."

Peter looked at Susan then at Lucy, "That's just the point Lu," He said gently, "It's too dangerous, we wouldn't have a chance. Not if humans are hunted like convicts by packs of wolves. We wouldn't last two minutes."

"But we have to save him!" Lucy said and tears started to run down her cheeks, "He saved my life!"

"But it's too dangerous Lu," Peter said, "Tell you what, I'll go and see what I can do for the old chap and the rest of you go back though the wardrobe."

"No," said Susan, "we are all going back, this is a very bad place."

"Want a piggy back ride, Lu?" Peter asked, quite agreeing with her.

Wordlessly Lucy agreed, and all the way back to the wardrobe she cried until Peter had an uncomfortable wet patch on the back of his neck. They passed the lamppost without even looking at it and they reached the wardrobe. What they saw thrilled them though with complete horror.

The wardrobe stood, calm and still, but there was a back on it.

Peter put Lucy down in the snow and walked over to it.

"Maybe we can break it down," Edmund suggested, but the wood was as yielding as iron.

"How about the other side?" Peter exclaimed. Peter and Edmund fought their way through the branches of the trees until they were on the other side of the wardrobe. The doors were closed and locked. Peter pounded on it with his fists,

"Beast!" he exclaimed, "beast!"

"Come on Peter!" Edmund said, and dragged him around to the front of the wardrobe.

"It will be all right," Peter said uncertainly, "we could…we could…"

"We could," Susan said firmly, "go right back to 's cave and light a fire."

Lucy started to cry in earnest now.

"It will be fine Lucy," Susan said, "I promise."

* * *

><p>An: Well, there they are. Stuck in Narnia. There _is _no going back. What do you think?

Constructive criticism please. No flames.

Coming up: Chapter Ten...

In which the children eat supper with beavers, have a lesson in prophecy and meet the cutest robin ever.

~Rose

* * *

><p>To previous review: Yes, very true. Sticking someone in a bathtub and running cold water on his feet is a rather nasty thing to do! and most likely neither the book verse Peter nor the Edmund would have done it. My Edmund and Peter are creatures of the English boarding schools and many English boarding schools in the late 1800's and early 1900's were horrible places to grow up. They started going at around seven and were faced with years of meaningless thrashings, abuse by the older boys and early morning baths in ice cold water. Peter and Edmund would have looked on what they did as a prank, not anything really cruel. They are not perfect, and I think they improve considerably later in the story, especially their view of Eustace.<p>

It was rather silly and I did write it when I was 13. (just barely 13)

Anyway, thanks for the review:)

~Psyche


	10. The Beavers

Chapter Ten: The Beavers

Susan closed the door as best as she could, but the bottom hinge was broken so the door hung sideways with a gap on the top right corner and the bottom left corner.

Peter piled a few logs in the fireplace, but the wood was wet and Peter wasted two matches on it.

"Does anyone have a piece of paper?" Peter asked after the third match.

"How about this?" Edmund pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Peter; Peter looked at it, grinned and crumpled it recklessly. He shoved it under a log and lit the corner. Slowly, an orange tongue slipped silently over Maugrim's name, it crumpled Jadis and coiled around the faun Tumnus until the paper was reduced to black dust. But it had done the trick and the logs had started to burn.

They sat in front of it, soaking up all the heat it offered.

"Ahem!"

Everyone jerked to their feet and Peter grabbed the poker and swung around to face the enemy.

In the gap in the bottom of the door way was a whiskery brown head with orange front teeth. On his head was a fat little robin that kept twittering nervously.

"It's a beaver," Eustace informed them.

"I wonder if they are friendly." Peter said, lowering the poker.

The beaver came the rest of the way into the room and stood on his hind legs. He tucked his front paws into his belt, next to a little hatchet, and swaggered forward.

"Are y'all the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve?" he asked.

"You talk?" Peter asked incredulously.

"'Course I talk!" the Beaver exclaimed, "I repeat, Are y'all the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve?"

"I suppose so," Peter said.

"Well, then you're to come with me," the Beaver said.

"I don't mean to be rude Mr. Beaver," Edmund said, "But how are we to know we can trust you?"

"Quite right," the beaver pulled a piece of white cloth out of his belt, "Here."

Peter took it and eyed it skeptically, "What is it?"

"It's my handkerchief!" Lucy said taking it, "The one I gave Mr. Tumnus! It has my initials in the corner!"

"Tumnus was warned of the arrest before it actually happened and he gave that to me. He told me to come here every day until you came. He wanted me to tell you to go back, but I'm not going to." The Beaver said, "You'll understand later. You'll come with me?"

Peter looked at Edmund.

"There isn't much else we _can_ do," Edmund said.

"We'll come, then," Peter said, "where will we be going?"

"To my house," the beaver said, "there we can have supper and a real talk."

"Let's go!" Edmund said, excited about the prospect of supper.

"Why didn't anyone ask me?" Eustace grumbled.

Peter and Edmund put out the fire and they filed out of Tumnus's cave into the cold of outside.

The sky was going silver and it had started to snow again. It was going to be dark soon, Susan noted. The Beaver kept to the woods and the going became harder. The snow was hopelessly deep and they plunged into banks up to their knees, or in Lucy's case, up to their waists.

Lucy was in the middle of the procession and Edmund and Peter had her hands, helping her though the drifts. Suddenly Lucy felt something flutter next to her cheek; she looked over and saw the delicate feathers on the fat body of the Robin that had been on the Beaver's shoulder.

Lucy hardly dared to breathe for fear she would frighten it away.

"Hello!" It said, it had a queer, chirping voice that almost sounded like whistling, "I'm Chibb, who are you?"

"I'm Lucy," Lucy said, "And this is Edmund and that's Peter."

"Hello," Edmund and Peter said, looking down at Chibb.

"Is the snow always so deep?" Lucy asked after she fell into a snowdrift and Peter and Edmund fished her out.

"It's a hundred years worth of snow," Chibb said fluttering above her head, "you're only seeing the tops of the higher trees."

"Really?" Lucy said as the robin landed on her shoulder again.

After a few minutes of walking, the trees stopped quite suddenly and they found themselves looking down at a frozen river. They knew it was a river because the snow that had covered it was all blown away, showing rolling gray ice.

Across the river was a dam and in the middle of the dam, all made of branches was a little house with smoke pouring merrily out of the chimney. A small round window in the side cast a soft yellow light unto the snow beneath it.

Far across the river were two hills, jagged and imposing, but the only person that these particular hills had any influence on was Eustace.

"Mr. Beaver," Susan said, "What a gorgeous place!"

"Merely a trifle, merely a trifle, my father built most of it," he said, pleasure written across his face, "and it's not finished yet, the winter came too soon."

The beaver started walking again and they followed him down the slope to the dam. It was icy and very slippery. The beaver dropped down on all fours and scampered across safely, but the children slipped and slid and Susan nearly went over the side.

"It's no use," Susan said, "Let's go on hands and knees. It's better," she said logically, "To be cold, than dead."

The beaver opened a small round door into the house and they slid in feet first because the hole was rather small.

It was beautifully warm in there and they all stood blinking in the sudden light. It was a small round home with only one room with a round table in the center of it. There were bunks on each wall and behind one set of bunks was a nice warm corner with a little spinning wheel in it. Sitting at the spinning wheel was a she-beaver busily spinning.

Next to the spinning wheel was a big open fireplace with a few logs crackling invitingly.

"Here we are Mrs. Beaver," Mr. Beaver called to the corner with the spinning wheel.

The thumping of the wheel stopped and the Beaver jumped up from behind it. When she saw the four children, she let out a happy cry of delight and nearly knocked them all down hugging them.

"Steady on!" Eustace cried.

"Oh that I should live to see this day!" the Beaver cried, tears springing to her eyes, "the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve from the prophesy!"

"Please," Lucy said, "What prophesy?"

"Ah," Mrs. Beaver said, "You don't know it then? Well, it is very old and it's said that it has been here since the beginning of time, said by Aslan himself…"

"Who is Aslan?" Lucy asked, wonderingly. The name seemed to stir something inside of her. She caught the look on Eustace's face and it was of complete horror.

"He's the King," Mrs. Beaver said reverently, "the Great King; he made us all long ago, at the dawn of time. They say that his country is far to the east, because it is from the east that he always comes. If anyone can put all to rights he can…why, you five wouldn't even be here if he hadn't wanted it."

"Now," Mr. Beaver said, "About that prophesy."

"Yes," Mrs. Beaver said, "About that prophesy. Before the witch got into power four thrones and four crowns were made down at Cair Paravel, that's the castle down at the mouth of the great river, and it was said that when two kings and two queens sat on those thrones, evil would be over and done. That's why you four are so important…"

"What about me?" Eustace squeaked indignantly.

"He has a great plan for you too," Mr. Beaver comforted him, "Only I don't know what it is."

"But," Peter said, "I'm no king! I'm just plain old Peter Pevensie!"

"If Aslan picked you, then Aslan picked you," Mr. Beaver said, "and that is that."

"Well," Mrs. Beaver said, "Let's not all stand around talking! These humans are hungry! Mr. Beaver, I dare say you will catch us some fish?"

"I will at that, Mrs. Beaver," Mr. Beaver said, "do you boys want to learn how to catch fish beaver style?"

Peter and Edmund readily agreed, but Eustace preferred to stay behind.

They followed the beaver out of the house and over the ice behind the dam. Several round holes had been cut in the ice, though most of them had been frozen over. Mr. Beaver found the one with the thinnest ice and shattered it with a swing of his hatchet.

"You wait right here," the beaver said, then hurried back to the house.

"I wonder how he's going to go about catching them." Edmund said peering down into the hole.

"Well no matter what," Peter said, "It's going to be interesting."

"I didn't know Beavers ate fish." Edmund said thoughtfully.

"Eustace might know," Peter suggested.

Edmund did not deign to answer.

A moment later the beaver returned with a bucket and put it next to the hole, "No sound now," he warned and leaned close to the ice, listing hard.

The boys leaned forward just in time to something silver drift by and the beaver's paw shoot into the water and reappear with a fish. He dropped it into a bucket and leaned back over the hole.

Edmund looked at the fish flopping in the bucket, its mouth opened and closed and its eyes bulged.

"The fish are sluggish in this cold," Mr. Beaver explained, catching another, "In the summer my dad used to get them by tickling. Have a turn?"

They both tried and went numb from the hand to the shoulder for their pains.

"Got one! Got one!" Edmund cried. "Um…well…I did have one."

"I can't even feel them anymore," Peter lamented.

Mr. Beaver caught twelve more and Peter ended up with one he was able to hold on to. Mr. Beaver bopped them all on the heads, then showed them how to scale and clean them.

"Mrs. Beaver won't be too thrilled about fish scales in her house," the Beaver noted and tried his best to get it all off with a broom. When they finally slid back into the house, they only smelled of fish and there wasn't a scale to be seen.

Mrs. Beaver clucked about the fish, then dropped it into a frying pan she had ready. It sizzled and spat and the whole room smelled of cooking fish.

The girls were setting the table, the plates and silverware were quite different then they were used to, they seemed to be handmade, out of wood. Mrs. Beaver had given Susan a big golden brown loaf of bread to cut and it was still warm from the Dutch oven.

Lucy suddenly found that she was quite tired and Mrs. Beaver told her to go lay down on one of the bunks. Chibb fluttered over, sat next to her head and talked to her about Narnia.

"I'm dying to see a centaur," Lucy said dreamily.

"Oh, you will Lucy, you will," Chibb assured her.

"Are there a lot of people around here?" Lucy asked.

"Humans you mean?" Chibb said, "No there are no humans in Narnia, the witch makes it impossible for a human to come into Narnia and live, that's partly how we know you are the chosen ones."

The thought of becoming a queen did not bother Lucy; in fact, it didn't even occur to her. Susan on the other hand, who was cutting the bread almost savagely, was wondering just how to break the news to everyone that they were only kids and definitely not ready to be kings and queens.

'Aslan chose you,'

This bothered her even more, mostly because she was wondering just what or who Aslan was and whether he was just as evil as the witch. She wondered how they were going to keep from getting killed. The sight of Mrs. Beaver merrily frying fish inspired more courage in her. Here was someone who had suffered much.

Peter badly wanted to talk about the king thing as well, but the subject seemed to be the farthest thing from Mr. Beaver's mind.

As the oldest, Peter held the weight of responsibility of the welfare of the others. If he had been alone he would have been more than happy to free these animals from the witch. _If_ he had what it took, which he was quite certain he did not. Nevertheless, he had the others to think about; he too wondered just how safe they were. He longed to talk to Susan, who, despite her own worries, was usually able to put his to rest.

Edmund was calculating the personalities of the Beavers; he studied human nature as a hobby and could usually judge a personality quite accurately. Of course, Beaver natures were slightly different.

He could tell, despite Mr. Beaver's jolly personality, that he was watching them, undoubtedly wondering if they were really the four from the prophesy. Edmund looked over at Peter and saw that he had a clouded expression on his face; he vaguely wondered what he was worried about. Edmund had no doubt in his mind that Peter could be a king.

Edmund saw Susan out of the corner of his eye, hacking at the bread with none of her usual calm; her slender fingers were clamped on the knife until her knuckles turned white.

Lucy was the only one who seemed herself.

Her little elfin face was wreathed with smiles and her big blue eyes were wide with wonder at the stories that Chibb was telling her.

Eustace, too, was acting himself; he was sitting in the corner with a scowl on his face.

Mrs. Beaver was busy, but she too was watching them. The fish had been fried to perfection and she was putting two on each plate. She had boiled potatoes and put them in her best bowl on the table. The string beans added the final touch and she stepped back, surveying her work. It was, she decided, worthy for any number of people out of a prophesy.

But they certainly didn't act prophetic when she announced dinner; they fell on it like a pack of hungry hounds, not future monarchs.

Chibb feasted on nuts and a little bit of fish in a bowl on the table. He perched on the edge of it and chirped with his mouth full, which Mrs. Beaver repeatedly told him not to do.

After supper Mrs. Beaver served her crowning dish, it was a fat sticky cinnamon role with apples in it.

"And now," Mr. Beaver shoved his fork into his slice, "let's get to business."

"Business?" Peter asked.

"Well, we ought to know just what we are going to do with you," Mr. Beaver said, "for one thing you are humans, you're from the prophesy and you're badly wanted by the police, it was rather foolish of me to let you outside when we were fishing."

"This isn't going to be a short thing," he continued, "in fact we won't be able to do anything until Aslan acts and he will act soon, it has been so prophesied…"

_More prophesies_, Susan thought wearily.

"…Your lives are worth more to Narnia then any others…"

_Everyone is worth something_, Edmund thought indignantly.

"…It means that you will have to stay hidden for a while, but if the witch knew you were in Narnia, your lives would not be worth a shake of my whiskers."

"But we aren't kings and queens!" Peter broke out, "we're just kids! I don't think I could lead anyone out of this mess."

"That's not for me to decided," Mr. Beaver said calmly, "Aslan has decided, and Aslan does not, and I repeat, does _not_ make mistakes."

Peter slumped back and realized the uselessness of arguing.

"Now," Mr. Beaver said, "As I was saying, I have a friend who lives across the river, he's a hedgehog and hedgehogs make tunnels, you could probably be hidden with relative comfort there."

"What does 'relative comfort' mean?" Peter asked, he was the tallest and he didn't like the sound of 'relative comfort'.

"Oh," the beaver smiled, "you'll be able to stand up in the main room, he's quite proud of his vaulted ceiling."

"I say!" Lucy broke in, "Eustace?"

There was no reply.

"He was sitting right next to me a moment ago," Lucy said, "But it's gotten so dark in here he might have gone to sleep on one of the bunks."

Mrs. Beaver lit a kerosene lamp and held it up, reveling that there was no Eustace in the room.

"Where has he gone?" Peter jumped up.

"Maybe he's gone outside for a breath of fresh air," Susan suggested.

"He didn't take his coat," Edmund noted, looking at the coat rack.

"Let's go look for him outside," Lucy said, running for the door, everyone followed her.

The sun had long since gone down, but the moon was bright and two jagged hills showed with spectral stillness in the distance. A single set of footprints traveled in a steady line towards them.

Mr. Beaver's face went taught and he hustled them back inside the house.

"Has your cousin ever been to Narnia before?" he asked heavily.

"Yes, he has," Lucy said.

"Were you with him the whole time?" the beaver asked.

"No, _I _wasn't," Lucy said, "Were you Edmund?"

"No, you goose," Edmund said, "I came to get you, remember."

"Then you are in terrible danger," Mr. Beaver said, "Your cousin has gone to the witch, you are betrayed."

"Oh, no!" Lucy exclaimed, "but Eustace wouldn't do that...would he?"

"He has the look of someone who has been with the witch," Mr. Beaver said, "after you've lived here long enough, you know."

"That means that we can't stay here another minute," Mrs. Beaver said, "You are not safe in Narnia."

* * *

><p>AN Yes, thank you Mrs. Beaver, we knew that being human in Narnia wasn't safe. What are you going to do about it?

Coming up: _Flight_

In which the children have a lesson in Narnian geography and set off on a desperate journey.


	11. Flight

Chapter Eleven: Flight

~o*o~

Eustace had felt that he was greatly wronged when he found out that he wasn't included in the prophesy. For a while he thought that perhaps it had meant him instead of one of the others, but he knew deep down inside that it didn't.

He decided to leave when it began to get dark. The Beaver was just saying that their lives wouldn't be worth a shake of his whiskers if the witch knew about them when Eustace slipped out the door.

There was snow on the dam so he didn't slip as he started for the two hills. He ran for a while, afraid of being found out and getting dragged back by those fiends, Peter and Edmund. The hills seemed so close, but as he walked they got no closer and he remembered that he had forgotten his coat, for it was bitterly cold.

He fell in snow drifts up to his neck and had to claw his way out. The trees seemed to grab at him and he thought about how nasty Edmund was and how gentle and lovely the white lady was. Though, he decided as he ran into a tree and got loose again, she could have made it a little easier to get to her house.

Finally, he hit a road of packed snow and made much more progress. It led up between the hills until finally he came to the edge of a valley and there, shimmering in the moonlight, was a castle.

It was made of stone, but now it had been so coated with ice that it looked like it had been made of glass.

Eustace stumbled forward again and reached the gates within fifteen minutes. He vaguely wondered why the gates stood open and why they weren't guarded, but he had no time to think about that as he slipped into the courtyard.

Inside was a sight that nearly took his breath away.

~o*o~

"Where will we go then?" Peter asked.

"Perhaps we can get to Ettinsmoor," Mr. Beaver said, "It's a chance she won't look for us there and it's not _so_ far away. It's the one place that isn't under her infernal snow and ice."

"Do you have a map of the area?" Peter asked.

"I think I had one somewhere," Mr. Beaver looked around, "Ah," he said and pulled one out from under the mattress of one of the bunks. Mrs. Beaver quickly cleared away the dishes and he laid it flat on the table.

Peter leaned forward and studied it. It showed the cost lines of three countries against the ocean, Narnia, Archanland and Calormen and another land bound country, Telmar, just to the west of Narnia.

"Look here, what is this Telmar place?" he asked, pointing to it. "Does the witch rule it too?"

"Practically," Mr. Beaver said. "It served as her staging ground for the invasion of Narnia."

"And Archanland?" Peter said, staring at a long, thin country to the south.

"The good and just Lune is king there," the beaver said, "that's where we get most of our food smuggled in from."

"Then," Peter said, "I propose we go there. Her castle is here…and we'd have to walk right past it to go to Ettinsmoor. Archanland appears to be closer, too. I think we're more likely to get caught going to Ettinsmoor."

"We will probably get caught going to Archanland as well," Mr. Beaver said, "when the witch got in, a lot of Narnians escaped to Archanland, the great Narnian counsel sits at the castle of Anvard. You might be right; we could even get an army together." Mr. Beaver was starting to warm to the idea. "We could stay with friends along the way; we could even go to the house of my friend tonight."

"No," Peter said, "We don't want to put anybody else in danger. We must go straight to Archanland. How far is it?"

"Oh, a good eighty miles from here," Mr. Beaver said.

Peter glanced at Lucy, "It might take us a while," he said uncertainly.

"We can't just stand here talking! Let's start packing!" Mrs. Beaver exclaimed.

"Packing?" Mr. Beaver started, "but we haven't got time!"

"Time? Poof!" Mrs. Beaver said, "You run up and get some sacks down from the rafters. Have you ever heard of someone setting out in the middle of winter with no provisions? Never heard of _anything_ _so_ ridiculous!"

Susan quite agreed with her and shoved what was left of the bread into one of the sacks Mr. Beaver dropped down from the rafters. Several pairs of snowshoes rained from above.

"Beaver size, they'll be too small for you, but at least they'll help a little bit," Mr. Beaver said as he handed down another pair, "Made them for the kids before they left home. Always have an extra pair around just in case."

Mrs. Beaver put Mr. Beaver's tinderbox in one of the sacks.

"We really must be going!" Mr. Beaver said.

"But I'm not half ready yet!" Mrs. Beaver rushed past him with a ham, "Chibb! Can you get some handkerchiefs? Where is the other ham? I can't find it!"

The robin rushed to obey, but when he was done, a few loose feathers fluttered down around Mrs. Beaver's ears. Lucy picked up one of the little feathers and put it in her pocket.

"We really have to go now!" Mr. Beaver said.

"But we can't possibly leave without butter," Mrs. Beaver said, wrapping a scarf around Lucy's neck, "do you think the spinning wheel is too big to take?"

"Yes, much too big!" Mr. Beaver said, "Now put on your snowshoes!"

"But I can't bear the thought of that witch fiddling with my spinning wheel!" Mrs. Beaver cried.

"Just put on your snowshoes," Mr. Beaver said wearily, "they could be here in a moment!"

All four children had scarves and snowshoes on and a sack of provisions and Mrs. Beaver had finally been persuaded to leave. Life was good.

It was a bit of a trick to get though the door with snowshoes on, but they finally managed it. With snowshoes, they were able to go much farther much faster, and as Mr. Beaver pointed out, they didn't leave as deep tracks which the falling snow would easily cover.

It was frightfully cold and the coats the children had on were but poor protection over their thin summer clothes. Mr. Beaver led them to the end of the dam, then up a little slope the next moment they were among the trees on a small narrow path that no one would have noticed on less they were on it. It sloped downwards until they were walking down a little gorge.

"Not as much snow down here," Mr. Beaver said, "Much easier going."

Chibb decided to land on Susan's shoulder and talk to her, because he hadn't yet gotten too.

She asked him about himself and why he stayed with the beavers and he told her that his parents had been messengers between Archanland and Narnia and had been killed by the witch's vultures.

"Birds can get back and forth a lot better than animals can," Chibb explained.

"Why didn't they stay in Archanland where they were safe?" Susan asked.

Chibb looked horrified, "this is our country! We can't desert her!"

Susan smiled, she felt that same way about England, especially now with the war coming on. She tried to think how she would feel if Hitler took over England and realized that she would act the same way as Chibb.

Lucy was already tired and this long walk after her bedtime was very fatiguing and she was close to tears when Mr. Beaver ducked into a think bunch of bushes and disappeared.

She followed after and saw Mr. Beaver's tail disappearing down a hole. She scrambled after and found herself in a small earthy room in the ground. She huddled up next to the wall.

Edmund came down next, then Susan and Chibb, then Mrs. Beaver and finally Peter, who had stayed out to see that everyone made it in safely.

It was quite cramped in there and Lucy was nearly sat on by Peter, and Edmund howled because Susan stepped on his hand. Finally they were all sitting with their backs against the wall and their feet, a jumble in the middle.

"What is this place?" Edmund asked.

"A hiding place for animals in bad times," Mr. Beaver said, "No one knows about it anymore, so we're safe here."

"It's rather uncomfortable," Mrs. Beaver sniffed, "If you bunch hadn't been in such a hurricanal hurry I could have brought some pillows!"

Lucy yawned, but now that she was sitting down she didn't feel so tired, but it was so bitterly cold. Shivering uncontrollably seemed to be a natural state.

"Is there anything to drink?" She asked.

There was some scuffling as Mrs. Beaver fished around in her sack.

"Ah," she said, "here it is!"

She handed it to Lucy who took a sip. It was strong, bitter and sweet all at the same time; it made her feel warm down to her toes and slightly light headed. A moment later she was asleep.

Mrs. Beaver joined her and Mr. Beaver, Peter, Edmund, Susan and Chibb stayed awake, talking about their route.

"I have an idea," Chibb said after a moment, "I could fly ahead and see if I can get them to send a search party for you."

"It's dangerous," Mr. Beaver said warningly, "Remember your parents, Chibb."

"It's worth a try," Chibb said, "I'll leave this minute!"

And before anyone could stop him he flew out of the hole, leaving behind a cloud of feathers.

* * *

><p>AN: Well, Eustace really has many reasons for going to the witch. If he had been brought up better…you see, when his parents were alive, life revolved around him in some ways. He was probably spoiled and ignored at the same time.

Coming up: Stone

In which Eustace has a very_ hard _time and the rest continue their journey.


	12. Stone

Chapter Twelve: Stone

~o*o~

There, filling the courtyard were hundreds of stone statues. Eustace stepped into the courtyard and looked at them in wonder. They were so perfectly carved that they could have been real animals turned to stone. Their cheerless expressions cast a dark shadow over the courtyard and made Eustace feel that this was an evil place.

There were great centaurs, minotaurs, a dragon, scores of animals like horses, dogs, foxes, wisents, eagles and the like. There were unicorns and griffins, stags and rabbits. Their expressions were so intensely sad and lost that Eustace, for a moment, felt sorry for them.

Suddenly the hairs on Eustace's neck began to prickle. He felt as if something, rather _someone_ was behind him. Eustace heard no sound but he felt a presence. Slowly, very slowly he turned and around and looked right into the burning blue eyes of a white wolf. Eustace recognized him at once as Shard.

"So," Shard said, "You've come?"

"Y-yes," Eustace said, still staring into those cold blazing eyes of blue fire.

"You would really betray your cousins?" Shard hissed, "Your own flesh and blood?"

"I'm not betraying them," Eustace said simply, "They betrayed me. I'm only going to someone I know is my friend."

Shard laughed a dry humorless laugh.

"Shard?" a sharp commanding voice echoed behind the white wolf and Eustace looked up and saw a huge black wolf, "What have you got there?"

"A human," Shard turned around, "who wishes to see her majesty."

"Fenris!" the black wolf turned and called.

Instantly a gray wolf appeared out of the shadows, "yes Maugrim?'

"Go in to her majesty and inquire whether she wishes to see this human before we finish him off."

"Yes Maugrim," Fenris melted into the shadows.

A minute later Fenris reappeared, "She wishes to see him."

"Shard," Maugrim said, "take this two legged pepperoni in to see her majesty."

"You heard him," Shard turned to Eustace. "March, I'm right behind you."

Eustace marched.

He was just beginning to decide to make a run for it when Shard directed him into a long hall filled with icy blue light. The door of it was guarded by two minotaurs with battle axes.

Eustace stared about himself. it was blue, white, ice. The columns looked like giant icicles, his feet slid across the floor. His head began to throb. A dark shape crouched against the wall and Eustace stared at it. It was heavily built with a boxy snout and it was covered with dark grayish brown hair. Its legs were short, but its forelegs were longer then the hind legs. Its chest was broad, almost manlike. With horror, Eustace realized he was looking upon a werewolf.

He looked away quickly and caught sight of a throne. Seated on the throne was the white lady, beside her, just kneeling on the steps to the throne, her head against Jadis' leg, was a little girl dressed in green.

They walked the length of the room and Eustace stood before the white lady.

"Kneel before her majesty," Shard hissed.

Eustace dropped to his knees, "Please your majesty," he stuttered, "I've brought my cousins quite close, they're at the beavers."

The white lady looked down at Eustace as she twined her fingers through the green girl's dark auburn hair, "you have done well, you shall be rewarded," with one quick motion she grabbed her wand and drove it towards Eustace, but didn't quite touch him.

Eustace's legs began to feel numb and cold and he stared down at his hand as it turned to white marble. He looked wildly around himself and caught sight of Shard, looking at him with pain in his now soft blue eyes. Eustace's cry died at his stone lips.

"Shard!" Jadis looked up from Eustace and Shard snapped to attention, "Fetch Maugrim!"

Shard hurried away and returned with Maugrim.

"Yes your majesty?" Maugrim bowed.

"Go," Jadis said, "take twenty of your best wolfs to the beavers dam, bring all you find there to me, if they are not there, track them."

~o*o~

"Well, there he goes, there's no stopping him once he gets an idea in his head," Mr. Beaver said, "Well, I might as well try to get some shut eye while it's still night."

"Peter?" Susan said after Mr. Beaver's steady breathing told her that he was asleep.

"Yes?" Peter said.

"It's really dangerous," Susan said, "isn't it?"

"Yes," Edmund broke in.

"You're still awake?" Susan asked.

"Yes, of course I am!"

"Is Lucy awake?" Susan asked.

"No," Peter said, he could feel her head on his shoulder, "She fell asleep awhile ago."

Peter shifted slightly.

"Ow!" Edmund said.

"What's wrong?" Susan asked.

"Peter kicked me," Edmund said, "He's got a jolly powerful kick."

"I was thinking," Susan said quietly, "what if Aslan is just as bad or worse than the witch?"

"I was thinking the same thing," Edmund said, "nasty thought."

"I don't think so," Peter said, "I have this feeling about him, it's so odd…I feel like he's something wonderful."

"Really?" Susan said after a moment, "I rather do too; I really want to believe in him."

"It was when his name was first mentioned," Edmund said, "I felt like that too, but it wears off."

"I wonder if God can hear us here," Susan said softly.

"I'm sure he can," Peter said, "I know he can."

The darkness was heavy and smothering. Only a little light from the moon filtered through the entrance to the hole, but it made the darkness darker.

"Well," Peter said after a moment, "We should probably get some sleep while we can."

Silent breathing answered him. The dark and cold surrounded them and weighed down on them. The wild, ethereal sound of a wolf howling sent a chill down Peter's spine.

"Dear God," he whispered softly, "if you can hear me here, then please watch over us, especially Lucy, she's so small, and watch over Eustace."

~o*o~

Mr. Beaver's morning yawn split the silence and everyone woke.

"Is It morning already?" Edmund moaned, "I thought I just went to sleep!"

"Yes," Susan said, "Up, don't lie around."

Suddenly everyone fell silent for they heard a nose that made their hearts turn to ice.

* * *

><p>An I'm sure you can guess who…

Coming up:

Chibb has some problems, Shard puts in an appearance and begins to show his true colors.


	13. Father Christmas

Father Christmas

Chibb flew for most of that night, then he slept for a while in a tree. When he woke it was morning and he flew again. It was just before noon when the mountains of Archanland came into view and Chibb flew with renewed courage.

Suddenly a huge black shadow fell across him and he looked up to see two of the witch's vultures circling above him. He banked away as one dove and collided with the talons of the other one.

He barely escaped, leaving only a poof of feathers.

The vultures dove again and nearly had him. Chibb dove, trying to look for cover, but there was none to be had.

He saw the blazing red eyes of the vultures and swallowed.

"You're not getting out of this one, Chibb old boy," he thought as he swoop sideways again. Suddenly, talons closed over his fat little body.

~o*o~

The wolf pack streaked across the moonlit snow like some bad dream. They reached the beaver's dam much faster than Eustace had reached the witch's castle. The little house in the middle of the dam laid still and dark.

The wolves flitted across the dam and they circled the house, howling.

"Open up!" Maugrim lifted a heavy clawed paw and left a long jagged scratch in the little door of the house, "Open in the name of the secret police!"

Maugrim waited, "All right, break it down!"

There was a crash of breaking glass as Fenris broke though one of the widows.

"Ten of you stay out here with Shard," Maugrim said before he threw himself though the broken window as well, "the rest follow me!"

More windows broke as ten wolves dropped into the beaver's house.

They cast around, searching, noses to ground. Bedding was pulled out of the beds, Eustace's coat was shredded, Mrs. Beaver's spinning wheel was reduced to match sticks and the ashes were dug out of the fireplace as the wolves looked up the chimney.

Maugrim soon saw that it was impossible for the humans to be hidden in the house.

"Everyone outside!" he hollered and forced the door open.

A gray stream of quick silver followed him outside as the ten wolves evacuated the house, some were still chewing on parts of the spinning wheel and others were fighting over a ham.

"Silence!" Maugrim shouted, "Are you a bunch of overgrown puppies or are you part of the Secret Police!"

Instantly the nose ceased.

"That's better," Maugrim said, "Now Shard, take five of the best trackers and find the humans. Split up if necessary, send a scout when you have found them, he will meet us here."

Shard was the best tracker of the Secret Police and only he knew which the best were. A plan was beginning to form in his mind, it was cunning and dangerous and if it failed it would be the last plan he would ever make, but he was willing to die.

He turned to the pack and selected the worst trackers of the bunch. He saw Fenris look at him suspiciously, but Shard was away before he could be questioned.

As soon as Shard and his chosen five were out of sight of the others, he turned to them. He had already picked up the human scent, but the others hadn't and he knew he had to send them away before it was too late. He split them up into two search parties and sent them in the opposite direction of the scent; he himself followed the human trail.

~o*o~

"What is it?" Edmund whispered.

"Sleigh bells," Mr. Beaver said, "It's the witch, she's the only one with sleigh bells in Narnia!"

The bells stopped right outside the hole. Everyone froze and dared not breathe.

Snow fell though the entrance on top of them as someone scuffled through the bushes.

"We're all going to be dead in a moment," Mr. Beaver's voice was heavy, "I'm sorry."

"Merry Christmas!"

Everyone jumped.

"Is that what she usually says?" Lucy asked in a small voice.

A joyful laugh sounded above them and they looked up to see a rosy face of an old man with a long white beard, looking down at them at the entrance, "Come out Beavers! Come out Daughters of Eve and come out Sons of Adam! It isn't the witch, it's only me!"

"Father Christmas!" Lucy squealed and rocketed out of her place right into the arms of the old man.

"I knew you were real!" She said as he lifted her out, "I knew it! I knew it!"

He set her down on the snow, "Of course I'm real!"

Lucy looked around herself and saw the sleigh, a beautiful thing that seemed to be made out of gold, drawn by eight reindeer that were looking at her with curiosity. Father Christmas himself was dressed in a mantle of red velvet edged with white fur.

Peter was the first one to come out of the hole; he was followed by Susan, then Edmund and finally the beavers.

"Oh good," Father Christmas laughed, "You're all out now, let me have a look at you…yes, yes, you'll do."

"But Sir!" Mrs. Beaver gasped, "The witch has been keeping you out!"

"Yes," Father Christmas said, "But Aslan is on the move! He has melted the witch's power enough to let me in, because, he wants' me to give you people some things that you need."

"Oh this is wonderful!" Mrs. Beaver sighed, "Really wonderful! I haven't had a real Christmas since the kids left!"

"Yes and I'm here to give you one," Father Christmas said, "Now for your present's!"

"Presents?" Lucy said, her eyes were wide, "We get presents?

"Yes little lady," Father Christmas ruffled her hair, "these presents are from Aslan, you will probably never get any others like them."

He lifted a big bag from the back of the sleigh, put it on the snow at his feet and opened it up.

"Mrs. Beaver," Father Christmas said, "for you there is a new and better spinning wheel, I'll drop it off at your house on the way through."

"Oh thank you sir!" Mrs. Beaver clasped her paws in delight.

"Mr. Beaver," Father said, "When you return to Narnia and to your house you will find the dam completed and a new sluice gate fitted."

Mr. Beaver was so happy he couldn't speak; he just reached out and shook Father Christmas's hand.

"Now Lucy," said Father Christmas peering into his sack, "here are your presents."

He pulled out a bow that was nearly as tall as Lucy herself, it was made of dark springy wood and the grip was wrapped with leather. It was a beautiful thing, long, elegant, the wood lined with light and dark. Lucy drew the string to her ear, it was hard, but she managed it. She let the string go and watched it vibrate.

Father Christmas handed her a dark leather quiver filled with arrows fletched with white feathers. The quiver was tooled with an intricate design of scrolling leaves, so beautifully done, they almost looked real

"The bow and quiver were made by the dryads, the bow does not easily miss because it is perfectly balanced, but I would advise you to aim it," Father Christmas said, smiling. "The stars themselves tested it and it is said Ramandu struck an asteroid at five hundred yards."

"Oh Father Christmas," Lucy cried and hugged him, "they are wonderful presents!"

"I have something else for you, Lucy," Father Christmas reached into his sack and pulled out a horn, it was beautifully polished and bound in gold, "this horn was made by the stars, when you blow it help of some kind will come."

"Thank you!" Lucy gasped, but she couldn't hug him again because she had her arms full.

"Susan!" Father Christmas said.

Susan stepped forward.

Father Christmas handed her a crystal bottle of red gold liquid, like honey. It seemed to glow of itself. "The cordial in this bottle is made from the nectar of the fire flowers on the sun, if you or any of your companions is hurt, one drop of this will restore them. It does not have the power to bring someone back from the dead."

In awe Susan looked at it, here was a fulfilling of her dreams, something that was worth a million first aid boxes.

"This little dagger is to protect yourself," Father Christmas handed her a small, slender dagger with an amethyst pummel stone; "It was made in Bism, in the very depths of the earth."

"Thank you sir!" Susan said at last.

Father Christmas smiled, then turned, "Edmund!"

"Here sir," Edmund said smartly.

Father Christmas pulled a sword in a black sheath, bound in silver, out of his bag and laid it in Edmunds hands.

The sword was beautiful in its simplicity. Long flowing lines made up the hilt and tang and a blue star sapphire, clear as Edmund's eyes, glowed in the pommel. The sunlight glittered brilliantly off the facets.

"Like your sister's dagger this sword was made in Bism, in the very heart of the earth, it was named Evyn, 'Shadow' in the old speech," Father Christmas said, "the steal of Bism is so strong that no sword up here on earth can break it."

"For me?" Edmund asked in a very small voice.

"Yes," Father Christmas laughed, "for you."

Edmund turned away to show Peter the sword and Peter stared at it open mouthed.

"Wait," Father Christmas laughed, "I'm not finished yet!"

Edmund looked around with an awestruck look on his face and Father Christmas handed him a sword hilted dagger with a blade that was about a foot long.

Edmund said nothing, but just sat down in the snow and looked at his gifts with complete awe.

"Peter," Father Christmas said.

Peter stepped forward quietly.

Father Christmas pulled another sword from his bag. It was very like Edmund's, longer perhaps and the shape was slightly different. The hilt was bound in leather and the pommel stone was a blood red ruby. It was plain, very plain, but so elegant one could never tire of looking at it. Even the tooling and silver made the sheathe more decorated then the sword.

Peter drew the sword from the sheath and watched the light dance down the length of the blade. It rippled and gleamed and Peter saw how two different steels had been mixed to make the blade stronger.

"It is Rhindon, 'Light' in the old speech," Father Christmas said, "it was also made in Bism and also only one who is worthy can draw it."

Father Christmas pulled a shield out of his sack and handed it to Peter, it had a rampant red lion leaping across it. The corners were bound in silver and richly decorated. Peter sheathed his sword and took it.

"Thank you sir," Peter said.

"And now for you all!" Father Christmas made a motion, as if throwing something and the beavers found themselves holding trays laden with breakfast.

"I must go now!" Father Christmas said, climbing into his sleigh, "Merry Christmas and long live Aslan!"

Then, a word from him and the reindeer bounded forward leaving the small party staring after them.

"It's a good thing we had those fencing lessons at school," Edmund said, standing up, "Isn't it?"

"Jolly good thing," Peter said drawing his sword again, "On guard!"

Edmund drew his and they started a very slow sword fight. They quickly found that fencing foils and broad swords are two different animals.

"Oh for goodness sakes!" Mrs. Beaver hollered, "The breakfast is getting cold and you're jabbing at each other with pokers! I like that!"

But at the mention of breakfast, both boys decided that fencing could wait.

"I'm hungry!" Edmund said.

* * *

><p>AN: Edmund's always hungry...have you noticed?

I know switching Susan's and Lucy's gifts around seems weird at first, but if you think about it, it actually makes sense. The cordial fits Susan's personality and Lucy is the warrior queen (See _The Horse and His Boy)_. After all, Susan is the sensible one. She concerns herself with other peoples' welfare.

~Rose

As I write this, Psyche is shelling peas and airing her opinions. I can't even write a little Author's Note without help! ;)

Coming Up: _Chibb Falls_


	14. Chibb Falls

Chibb Falls

Chibb's wings were pinned by the talons and no matter how hard he fought, he was held in a grip of steel. He looked up and saw that he was held not by a vulture, but by a great golden eagle.

The eagle wheeled and attacked one of the vultures with its free claw and its beak. The vultures, though bigger than the eagle, were cowards and they fled as quickly as they could.

The eagle turned towards Archanland and gained altitude, Chibb had never been so high in his life, the country spread out like a map and the jagged peaks of the mountains between Narnia and Archanland grew steadily nearer.

With strong steady wing beats, the eagle soared over the mountains and left Narnia behind. Archanland was before them. Chibb could see that it was winter here too, but it was much warmer then Narnia, even at this altitude.

Then the eagle dove and alighted in a tree. He uncurled his claw and set Chibb upright on a twig.

"Hello old chap!" the eagle said, "Sorry I had to hold onto you like that, but you were nearly a goner!"

Chibb almost fainted with relief, "I'm going to king Lune…very urgent!" and then he did faint clear away.

~o*o~

As soon as the wolves had vanished Shard set to real running, it was almost morning and the sun was just beginning to peak above the horizon.

Twice Shard lost the scent and twice he found it again, finally it lead him into a little ravine and to a bunch of bushes. He found a hole in the ground and slipped into it. It was empty, but he knew that the humans had been there recently.

Shard clawed his way out and found the scent again. He knew he was close.

~o*o~

They had shouldered their packs and started on their way again. They were much happier now then they had been the night before; they were able to protect themselves. but how cold it was! The dry, freezing air burned their lungs and stung their faces and eyes. Their movements became slow and awkward and they felt very tired.

Sleet had fallen the night before and formed a thick crust on the snow, so they strapped their snowshoes on their backs.

A question had been gnawing at Peter's brain for almost an hour now, finally he asked Mr. Beaver about it.

"What is Aslan?" he asked. "Is he a man?"

"Why don't you know, Son of Adam?" Mr. Beaver asked his eyes wide, "You mean we never told you?"

"I suppose you didn't," Edmund said, "or else he wouldn't be asking you."

"Well then," Mr. Beaver said, "Aslan is a lion, he's the king of beasts! The king of kings."

"A lion?" Susan gasped, "Is he safe?"

"Who said anything about safe?" Mrs. Beaver asked, "of course he isn't safe, but he's good."

They walked on, threading through the trees, pushing aside frozen branches. The woods began to thin and the shadows lay in long purple stripes on the snow. After about an hour they reached the edge of the woods and before them spread out a flat plane of snow.

"These were famer's fields before," Mr. Beaver said, "Narnia had the richest crops."

"Peter," Susan's voice came from the back of the procession, "I think you should see this."

Peter walked over to Susan, "what is it?" he asked.

"Look," Susan pointed down at the ground.

The crust of ice had been deeply dented and the pads of the foot that had done it were clearly visible. The print was bigger than Peter's hand stretched out.

"I wonder where it is now?" Peter said standing up.

"I don't know!" Susan said, "I looked away for a moment and there it was!"

"Well," Peter said, "We'd best keep on, I'll walk behind."

They started out onto the field, Mr. Beaver leading.

Lucy found that one could skate on the ice. She went ahead, followed by Edmund, sliding, slipping and falling, getting picked up and falling again. Evan Susan tried sliding and fell once, tearing a hole in her stockings.

Suddenly from up ahead, came a sound like tearing cloth, Lucy completely vanished from view.

"Lucy!" Susan screamed, scrambling to her feet.

~o*o~

"That's it!" a warm mild voice seeped into Chibb's fogged brain, "That's a good little fu-fu!"

A warm liquid was forced into Chibb's beak and he spluttered and opened his eyes.

He was laying on his back in a room that seemed big to Chibb, but it really wasn't. A lady with apple cheeks and a rosy smile was leaning over him with a spoon in one hand and a mug in the other.

"That's much better!" the lady said, "Oh don't move!"

Chibb flopped around so he was laying on his front, "I must see King Lune at once!"

"But you're not well enough to see the king!" the lady said, patting his head, "Maybe a week or two."

"Where am I?" Chibb asked.

"You are at King Lune's castle at Anvard!" the lady said, "Goldwyn brought you in earlier today, said he rescued you over the border."

"I really have to see the king!" Chibb said again.

"I told you," the lady said, "you're not up to it. Now I'll go and let you rest."

She left the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Chibb sat up and fluttered to the door, there was no possible way he could get it open.

There was a window across the room and he flew to the sill and peered out, it overlooked the courtyard and he could see people and animals walking about down there.

Chibb tried to turn the little knob on the window and get it opened, but that sort of thing wasn't meant for a bird to do. When he saw he couldn't he threw a tantrum and pecked the wood work in the window, the next instant the window swung open and Chibb fell into thin air.

A/N:

Up next: _The Big Oak _

Introducing Narnia in exile.


	15. The Big Oak

The Big Oak

Shard stopped and dropped on his belly.

He had reached the edge of the woods and he could see the humans standing in a circle around a hole in the ice crust. He wondered almost angrily why they weren't walking as fast as they could.

Then he heard the distant bay of the wolves, the hairs on the back of his neck bristled and he streaked out onto the snow towards the humans.

Shard made no sound except for the click and screech of his toenails on the ice crust. As he approached the humans, he slid to a halt and came towards them with his tail wagging.

The first one to notice him was the dark haired boy, Shard recognized him as the boy he had seen in the snow three months ago.

"Peter," the boy said slowly, "there's a big white wolf right behind you."

The boy called Peter spun around and unsheathed his sword in the same motion.

Shard plastered himself against the ice, "I'm a friend."

"You're a wolf," Peter corrected him, "What do you want?"

"I came to warn you that the Secret Police are on your tail," Shard said, "Also I have seen your cousin."

"Eustace?"

"Where?"

"Is he safe?"

"What's going on?"

Four voices burst out at once; but the last one seemed to come from under the ground. Shard slipped forward and saw a little girl standing at the bottom of a deep gash in the snow; she was too far down to be pulled up without a rope.

Shard recognized her as the girl that he had seen in Mr. Tumnus's cave.

"There are four of you?" Shard whipped around.

"Yes," Peter said.

"If the witch knew that then your cousin would be no more," Shard said, "The prophesy says that there will be four of you, and if your cousin isn't one of you then he's useless."

"How _is _Eustace?" Susan interrupted him.

"The witch turned him to stone," Shard said, "But she is capable of unstoning him and she will, he's valuable for bargaining with, that is, _if _she doesn't know there are four of you."

"You're probably going to go right back and tell her," Mr. Beaver said, gripping his hatchet, "But we won't let you!"

"No," Shard said, "I can't go back, I'm a deserter, they'd kill me if they knew I came to warn you, I'm with you."

Suddenly the bay of the wolves split the air.

"Quick!" Peter said, "We have to get Lucy out!"

"Will this be helpful?" Mrs. Beaver dug a thick rope out of her pack, "It's always good to take your time when packing."

"Mrs. Beaver you're a brick!" Peter said grabbing it.

Mrs. Beaver didn't see a similarity between herself and a 'brick', but she decided that it must be nice the way Peter said it.

Mr. Beaver tied bowline with a large loop in the end of the rope and Peter lowered it to Lucy.

"Sit in the loop Lu," Peter called, "and we'll pull you up."

A moment later Lucy was standing with them on the ice.

They looked back and saw that the edge of the woods was lined with wolfs.

"Quick!" Shard said, "Look over there at that big oak," he motioned with his tail, "If we run we can get there before them, we can put the brachets up in the branches and the rest of us can stand with our tails to the trunk!"

"Come on!" Peter said and started running.

"What's a brachet?" Lucy asked.

"Female hound," Shard said, "Sorry, did I say that?"

They reached the tree and Peter boosted Lucy and Susan up into the branches, Mrs. Beaver declared that she was, 'far too old to go running about a tree like a squirrel,' but Peter, with Edmund's help, finally convinced her to follow the girls by lifting her up and setting her on a branch.

The boys unsheathed their swords, Mr. Beaver pulled out his hatchet and Shard bared his teeth.

"Lucy," Peter called, "Keep an arrow on your string if you can!"

Lucy pulled out her bow and notched an arrow as the wolves started to slow and close in around them. Their tongues hung out and their eyes smoldered. Susan couldn't help thinking how beautiful they were in their silver coats, edged with black.

Maugrim approached and eyed them. "Shard, I'm ashamed of you! You know I won't spare you, even if you are my brother."

"I won't spare _you_," Shard hissed.

"You won't will you?" Maugrim said, his eyes half closed, "You won't surrender?"

Lucy aimed for Maugrim's heart and let fly the arrow.

It struck the snow right next to Maugrim's paw, he jumped away.

"Attack!" Maugrim yelped and leaped for Shard.

~o*o~

Chibb at first forgot to flap his wings, he was so startled. Directly below him were two centaurs standing next to a fountain, one had red hair and one had black. He fluttered wildly and landed on the first available place, on the head of the black centaur.

"Excuse me?" he piped, "Do you know where I can find King Lune?"

Chibb squeaked with shock as the centaur's big hand closed around him and lifted him off his head

The centaur put him down at the edge of a fountain.

"Why it's a Robin!" the centaur exclaimed, "I'm Flavis, pleased to meet you Mr. Robin."

"Chibb actually!" Chibb said, "Do you know where I can find King Lune? It's a matter of life and death!"

"The king is in a counsel with Equus," Flavis said, "I don't think you can see him right now."

"But it's important!" Chibb hollered, "the four children of the prophesy are in Narnia right now!"

"What children?" the red centaur looked at Chibb like he was a new kind of insect.

"The children have to be rescued or Narnia is lost!" Chibb squeaked.

"I'm sorry Chibb," Flavis said, "We can't rescue your children as much as we'd like to."

"They aren't my children!" Chibb howled, "it's the four children from the prophesy!"

"The Prophesy?"

Flavis and the chestnut centaur looked at each other.

"I think he's dazed," Flavis said.

"I'm not, I'm not!" Chibb squeaked. "There are humans in Narnia! The four from the prophesy that was given long ago! They must have help now!"

The red headed centaur picked up Chibb, "We are going to see the king!"

"But Martin!" Flavis said, "He's in a conference!"

"I don't care!" Martin said, "Let's go!"

Chibb barely managed to balance on Martin's hand while the centaur galloped full speed into the castle's front entrance with Flavis behind him.

Martin skidded down the hallways while everyone in his path plastered themselves against the walls and yelled at him to slow down. A centaur at a full gallop in a narrow hallway is a daunting sight.

Martin clambered up a set of stairs and burst through the door at the top.

The room Chibb found himself in was large and there were two tall windows overlooking a garden. In the center of the room was a large plain wooden desk, sitting at the desk was the jolliest looking person Chibb had ever seen. To the side of the desk stood a magnificent gray centaur, his face was young, but his hair was almost white.

"Martin!" the man at the desk exclaimed. "What's going on? You act like the castle is on fire!"

"Your majesty!" Martin dropped into a bow, "this young Robin has extremely valuable information!"

Chibb fluttered over to the table and landed in front of the man.

"Please," Chibb cheeped, "are you King Lune?"

"Yes, I am!" the man said.

Chibb almost fainted with relief and poured out his story.


	16. Martin Decides

Martin Decides

* * *

><p>Lucy fired more arrows, but she only managed to one hit a wolf in the shoulder.<p>

Shard and Maugrim rolled around in the snow leaving blood and fur in their path, Fenris leapt for Peter and Peter hit him in the side of the head by accident.

"Pretty good Pete," Edmund gasped as he stabbed at a wolf, he missed and hit the snow instead; he pulled the sword back, heard and yip and found that he had cut off a wolf's tail.

"That was pretty good too," Peter called.

Mr. Beaver was the only one who really knew what he was doing, and he wielded his hatchet like a battleaxe. Mrs. Beaver dropped the bread plate on a wolf's head and Susan stabbed at them with one of Lucy's arrows.

They killed a few, but twenty well trained wolfs are a deadly adversary. It was a losing battle.

Fenris jumped at Peter, caught his arm and pulled him down. Edmund stabbed at Fenris; but the wolf was too cunning and slid sideways, still holding onto Peter.

Maugrim left Shard's body lying in the snow and jumped at Edmund and grabbed the front of his coat. As the huge black wolf dragged Edmund down a clear cool note of a horn blasted above him, then silence.

Then the world turned upside down.

A roar echoed towards them, it was so loud it shook the earth and reverberated like thunder in the distance. The roar increased until they were thrown to the ground, then it faded away.

Maugrim dropped Edmund and stood, forepaw cocked with a horrified look in his eyes, then, with mournful howls all the wolves leapt to their feet and dragged themselves into the woods.

"Pete," Edmund gasped, "Pete are you all right?"

Peter rolled over and sat up, his face was white, "I think I'm fine."

"Peter! Edmund?" Susan slid from the tree. "Are you all right?"

"I blew my horn," Lucy said dropping down from her branch, "I'd forgotten about it until now, I suppose we got help, it must have been that roar."

"Are you all right?" Susan cried.

"I'm fine," Edmund asked, "Where's Shard?"

"Over there," Peter said pointing to the bloody form in the snow, "Maugrim finished him off personally."

"Oh!" Lucy said, "How sad!"

She walked over to where Shard lay in the snow and knelt next to him, "Poor Shard," she reached out and touched his blood stained coat. It shuddered under her hand.

"Hullo!" Lucy called, "He's not dead!"

Susan ran over, "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

With shaking fingers, Susan unslung her cordial from over her shoulder and pulled out the stopper. She pried Shard's jaws open and let one drop of cordial fall into his mouth.

Then something very strange happened.

The gashes and cuts on his body started to melt together until only dried blood caked his coat. He opened his eyes and rolled to his feet.

"Where's Maugrim?" he said, "where are the Secret Police?"

"They ran away," Lucy said soothingly.

"They _what?_" Shard stared at her incredulously.

"I blew my horn and someone roared," Lucy said, "they got so scared they ran away."

~o*o~

"What a remarkable story!" King Lune said after Chibb had left the room, "What do you propose we do about it?"

"I for one am going to look for them," Martin said.

"I suppose I will too, you _might_ get yourself into trouble." Flavis said.

"But how do you know the little robin is telling the truth?" King Lune asked.

"The time is ripe," the gray haired centaur spoke for the first time, "I have watched the stars for years, they foretell that the prophesy will be fulfilled soon."

"Yes I remember that," King Lune said quietly, "You think that Chibb _is_ telling the truth, Equus?"

"I do," Equus said, "and furthermore, I will go with Martin and Flavis."

"Well," King Lune sat back in his chair, "I have no power over you, you are free Narnians, you may come and go as you please and I will aid these four children, if…" King Lune looked at them levelly, "…_if_ there _are_ four children and _if_ it will rid us of this witch, it is a great 'if' gentlemen."

"So, do we go with your blessing?" Equus asked.

"I ought to have your blessing! You're the prophet," king Lune laughed, "but if I wasn't tied up with kingship I'd go too. When will you leave?"

"If we tarry any longer then they could be killed, all hope for Narnia would be lost, the time to leave is at hand," Martin said, he looked at Flavis and Equus, "are you with me?"

"Let's go!" Flavis said.

"I will have provisions prepared for your journey," King Lune said and pulled a bell rope behind his chair, "Go now, Aslan's blessings upon you."

The three centaurs bowed and left the chamber.

"We will need scouts," Martin said as he closed the door.

"Nothing better than a hawk for that," Equus said, "they are light and fast and quite able to take care of themselves."

"Will we find any that are trustworthy?" Flavis asked as they trotted down the stars.

"I propose Jafa and his two brothers," Martin said, "They have proven themselves."

They went through a small door opening out onto the courtyard and stood next to the fountain.

"How will we go about finding them?" Flavis said, "Now that's the question of the century."

"Where would you go if you were a hawk?" Equus asked seriously.

"Since I don't happen to be one then I can't answer that question," Martin said shortly, "Look, there is Goldwyn, perhaps he can enlighten us."

"Stop using big words Martin," Flavis said, "I'm too young to comprehend them."

Martin ignored him and turned to Goldwyn, who had landed on the edge of the fountain.

"Goldwyn!" he said, "have you seen Ergo? And his brothers, Jafa and Elah?"

"I saw them a moment ago," Goldwin replied, "They were on the kitchen windowsill."

"Thank you! You're assistance has been invaluable." Martin was already galloping across the courtyard towards the kitchen.

"More big words," Flavis muttered.

"He's off in a hurry!" Goldwyn looked after Martin, and then turned back to Equus, "Begging your pardon sir, but what's up?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that," Equus said, "goodbye."

And Equus galloped after Martin.

"Oh," Flavis said, "the little robin you brought in is doing well and he was able to see the king."

"Good!" Goldwyn exclaimed, "Capital! I was hoping he would be all right."

"Where did you find him anyway?" Flavis asked.

"About to be eaten by vultures, poor chap," Goldwyn said.

They heard the clatter of hoofs and Equus and Martin returned. Martin with three hawks perched on his arm; he didn't seem to mind their sharp talons.

"They have agreed," he said gravely to Flavis.

"Good," Flavis said and looked over his shoulder, "and here come our provisions."


	17. Trevelyan

Trevelyan

* * *

><p>Night was settling in and Susan said that it was hopeless to try to go any farther that day.<p>

"I think we should sleep right here," Susan sitting down with her back to the trunk of the oak, "maybe we should sleep _in_ the tree, it would be safer."

She warmed to the idea and Lucy was ordered to sleep in the tree. It was terribly uncomfortable but she was so tired she fell asleep anyway.

Peter refused to sleep in a tree and Edmund refused because Peter refused.

"We should take turns staying awake," Peter, said wearily "the Secret Police might come back."

"We probably should," Shard said, "I will take first watch."

"It ought to be me," Peter argued, "You've been wounded."

"No," Shard said, "I hate to disobey orders, but I feel better than I have for years, I think it was that cordial. You should get your sleep your majesty."

Peter stared at him, "Your majesty?"

"Yes," Shard said calmly.

"He's right," Mr. beaver interrupted, "you will be a king if we ever get out of here alive."

"But I'm not the stuff a king is made out of!" Peter exclaimed.

"Yes you are," Shard corrected him.

~o*o~

Trevelyan fidgeted.

It was the custom in Narnia that every child, pup, kit or other young creature was to be educated at home by the parents of that creature. Of course sometime this was impossible and a tutor was hired and in a few cases they went to elite private school. Because of this custom the standard of learning was much higher for the Narnians.

Treve's parents had come to Archanland when the witch first invaded and they stuck loyally to this tradition when one by one all four of their children had been born.

They had stayed as close to Narnia as possible and they lived at the mouth of the pass from Archanland to Narnia. Treve was the oldest of the family and had rediscovered the pass from Archanland to Narnia, It had been cleared once, a regular road leading to Narnia, but now it was overgrown and Treve had stumbled upon the way once while he was exploring.

But, right now, as he fidgeted in front of the fireplace in the den with his tail curled around his paws. He had to answer geography questions about his native home in Narnia. His mother had made him learn every inch of Narnia by heart even though she knew he had never set foot there. Every Narnian child for that matter, had to learn the map. It was told that someday, with Aslan's help, they would invade Narnia and take it back and it would be ruled over by the four children from a prophesy. That prophesy had been told long ago and the present Prophet, Equus the great centaur, had said that it would be fulfilled soon. Of course nocreature knew when 'soon' was supposed to be.

Treve had always longed to meet Equus and even more, Martin, the general over the army of Narnia. There was an army even though they had been dispossessed.

Treve yawned and pricked his ears towards his mother's voice in an attempt to concentrate as she explained his history lesson. Today it was on King Frank and Queen Helen, the first monarchs of Narnia, the first monarchs of anywhere for that matter. Aslan had brought them in at the dawn of time when he first created the world.

The witch also had come at the dawn of time from a different world, it was said that two children brought her in because they didn't want her in their world.

"You're done," Treve's mother stood up, "you can go and do want you want now, just don't do anything dangerous."

Those were the words Treve had been waiting to hear all afternoon; he was done with schoolwork!

Treve shot out of the den and his mother shook her head and wondered if she should have named him 'arrow'.

Winter days were short and Treve found that the sun was already beginning to go down, it didn't bother him, red foxes were mostly nocturnal. He decided to go have a look at his ice den and see if any snow had fallen in it.

He had built his ice den earlier that winter, it was supposed to be a snow den, but then it rained and it had become an ice den. He had built it in the woods in a clear spot where part of the pass had once been.

The first part of the pass was quite obvious and Treve followed it until he came to a little hole in the snow bank and disappeared down it.

Blue light filtered down on Treve, he loved his den. He had heard that shades of blue that intense were supposed to make you go crazy.

The den gave Treve a quiet place to think. He loved to think, about heroes mostly. Treve had never been a hero and he longed to try his paw at it. Therefore, he sat in his den and thought about heroes and heroic things and hoped some of it would rub off on him. He dreamed of adventures and glorious things he could do, he'd even tried doing some of them. Once he tried to rescue a damsel in distress, but the damsel got sick of waiting and by the time he got there she was gone. He didn't feel heroic.

Treve suddenly felt sleepy and he rested his head on his paws.

Slowly he drifted to sleep. He dreamed he was a great warrior and all the land heard of him and asked him to do great deeds for them.

Suddenly Treve's dreams were rudely interrupted by steady hoof beats. Treve sat up straight and wondered who was in the woods at this time of day. Adventure hung heavy in the air.

Treve clawed his way out of his den and was startled to see three centaurs with hawks coming towards him. Two of them were bundled up for winter, but the third, a red centaur, wore nothing, not even a leather pad, to protect him from the talons of the hawk on his shoulder, like the others wore.

"Hello there," one of the centaurs stopped and looked at him. He had curly black hair, "Do you know an easier way to get though the pass? It's got a lot of ice blocking it up."

Treve was petrified.

Three heroic centaurs were asked _him_, Trevelyan, a way though the pass?

"Yes sir," he gulped, "a bit sir, a much easier way, sir, this isn't the way actually, it's over there."

"Really now!" the black centaur exclaimed and the other two centaurs caught sight of Treve.

"What?" the red centaur asked.

"This young chap says he knows an easier way through the pass!" the black centaur explained.

"Trust you to ask about an easier way," the red centaur muttered, but still, he looked relieved.

"Can you show us?" the other centaur asked, he was a gray centaur.

"Of course!" Treve said.

"What's your name?" the black centaur asked. "I'm Flavis."

"I'm Jafa," the hawk on his shoulder interrupted.

"Treve…" Treve said, then, "Trevelyan actually."

"Trevelyan," Flavis repeated, "how did you get such a long name? Flash it by Martin, he likes long words."

The red centaur snorted.

"My mother thought it sounded dignified," Treve explained, "she named me after an eagle that saved her life once."

"Really?" Flavis said, "Forgive me for asking young sir, but are you a Narnian?"

"Yes, yes I am!" Treve was eager to say.

"I thought so," Flavis said, "It's the accent."

"What about this easier way though the pass," the gray centaur reminded them.

"Wait a moment Equus," Flavis said, "we don't even know if this young chap's parents want him to gallivant down an icy pass in the middle of the night."

"Sir?" Treve asked.

"Yes?"

"Why _are_ yougoing down the pass?" Treve asked, "Are you going to Narnia?"

The centaurs looked at each other, then back at Treve.

"Yes, we are going to Narnia," Flavis said, "but we won't be going very quickly unless we can ask your parents if they'll let you show us down the pass."

"I'll lead you to them!" Treve cried and streaked back over the snow. He led them as fast as he could to the home den and nearly bowled over his younger sister. The same damsel in distress who had decided to leave while he was rescuing her.

"What happened Trevey?" she asked, then caught sight of the centaurs, "Hello!"

"Coppell!" Treve gasped. "Where are mum and dad?"

"Inside, why?"

But she never got her answer, Treve shot below like an arrow.

Coppell turned to the three lordly centaurs.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, "who are you?"

By the time Flavis finished telling her their names Treve reappeared with his mother and father.

"My dear sirs," Treve's father turned to the centaurs, "Trevelyan has been telling me that you want a guide to show you the way over the pass into Narnia."

"We would be gratified," Martin said rigidly.

"Am I right in believing that I saw the three of you at Cair Anvard?" Treve's father asked.

"Yes, you would have seen us there," Flavis said.

"Then I think we would all be honored if Treve showed you the way to Narnia," Treve's father said.

Treve let out a war whoop.

"Can I go too?" Coppell asked.

"No dear," Treve's mother said, "you won't miss anything, Treve will be back soon."

Treve felt immensely important, he, Trevelyan, was going to show three great lordly centaurs, not mentioning the hawks, over the pass to Narnia. Of course he'd have to come back as soon as he was done showing them. He hated the thought. What an adventure it would be to go into Narnia with three great lordly centaurs! Then he started to wonder just why three great lordly centaurs were going into Narnia in the first place.

Treve started into the woods with the centaurs after him. He chose the easiest way. He went down a slope covered with trees, then, almost without warning, he led them into a canyon, this was the first part of the pass.

Night was coming on and by the time the ground began to rise again the moon was out. Treve led them into thick woods and through the trees, he knew the way perfectly.

They were very high up now, and the cold was penetrating. Even Treve could feel it though his thick winter coat. The hawks fluffed up their feathers and muttered about the weather. Only Martin seemed to be unaffected.

They now came out onto a ridge, below them Narnia spread out in limitless white, specked with a few trees here and there and dark woods in the distance under the moon.

Treve led the way back into the woods and down a narrow path that only he knew. Finally they came out into Narnia.

"Here we are!" Treve announced, then he noticed the odd looks on the centaurs faces.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"Oh, nothing," Flavis smiled, "it's just that this is the first time any of us, except perhaps the hawks, have been in Narnia. It's like treading on sacred ground."

Treve was silent. He had never told his parents that he himself had been in Narnia many times. It was, in their opinion, too dangerous. And they were probably right.

"We have never been in Narnia," Jafa corrected Flavis, "we have only flown over it."

"At least you've breathed Narnian air," Flavis said.

"Which we ought to start doing now," Elah announced, "if we are ever going to find those children."

"Breath air?" Flavis asked inquisitively.

"No," Elah said, fluffing his feathers indignantly, "Fly over Narnia."

"At night?" Ergo squawked. "Not on your life! Wouldn't be able to spot a thing."

Children? Treve's breath starting coming in gasps, "not the children from the prophesy?"

The three centaurs looked at each other.

"Do you promise by your word of honor not to breathe a word of it to anyone?" Flavis asked and for once he didn't sound jolly.

"Yes sir," Treve gasped, "I promise!"

"Well," Equus said gently, "it's high time you headed back to your den, before the night has grown too old."

They watched as Treve vanished into the trees.

"He's a good pup," Flavis remarked.

"He is," Martin said, "he shows great promise."

* * *

><p>AN: I can hardly imagine what joy these Narnians in exile must be feeling. What do you think of them? Martin, Flavis and Equus?

Oh, yes. I was wondering what you think of the summary. Is that why you read the story or did it make you not want to read it?


	18. Insubordination

Insubordination

* * *

><p>Lucy woke suddenly. She lay on the branch of the oak, her face against the rough, cold bark. It was dark and the snow down below her looked like a pool of silver in the light of the moon. She was not sure why she had woken up, she just had a feeling. She sat up, a dull nervousness, flip-flopping her stomach.<p>

"Peter?" she asked in a small voice.

"I'm here," came the reassuring reply, "Do you feel strange too?"

"Yes," Lucy asked, "What is it?"

"I don't-" Peter broke off, then his voice rose, "What on earth? Everyone, wake up!"

"What?" Came Susan's tired voice. "Oh, my goodness!"

Then Lucy saw it too, a horde of dark creatures just hovering above the ground. They were slim, black with hideous faces and they gave off an eerie red glow. The creatures surrounded them and closed in.

Lucy felt hands grab her clothes and she stared around into the glowing red eyes of one of the creatures. They were a little shorter then she was herself and it took four of them to lift her off her branch. She screamed.

She was blinded by their dark filmy wings, she couldn't see anything. She struck out at them. They felt cold, they smelled smoky. She heard Susan scream.

Suddenly the creatures dropped her and she landed back on her branch. Their wings lifted and she could see beyond them. There were more creatures coming. They were about the same size as the other ones, but they glowed many colors instead of just dull, throbbing red. Their faces were serious and their ears were pointed. They were beautiful things, the women had long hair and dresses, the men had neat little beards, and some of them even had gold earrings like little pirates.

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the worst, but it never came. She opened her eyes again, just in time to see the last of the colored creatures fade from view. It wasn't serious anymore, it was grinning happily at her and it winked. Just as it vanished, she fell asleep.

~o*o~

Treve didn't really leave.

He only slunk into some dense bushing and lay there watching the centaurs and hawks discuss what they were going to do. He intended to go with them, of course they'd send him back if they saw him, but he was determined that they wouldn't…maybe he would even save their lives and be a hero! After all his parent's hadn't told him he _couldn't_ go with the centaurs.

Treve was surprised to see the sky already getting light at the horizon; he hadn't realized that it had taken so long to get over the pass.

At the moment that the edge of the sun began to show Elah, Jafa and Ergo took off, circled and disappeared into the sky.

~o*o~

Lucy woke.

She felt warm, which was deliciously wonderful after a whole day of constant shivering and numb hands and feet. She stared around herself.

She was laying on a low bed made of some sort of soft springy stuff. Warm blankets were under her chin and the walls of the room seemed to be rounded out of earth. There was a distinctly musty smell hovering in the air. Golden light as from a fire flickered across the ceiling. There was a low murmur of voices behind her.

"Susan?" she called, "Peter? Edmund?"

"We're here," Susan leaned over her and smiled.

"Where are we?" Lucy asked, sitting up, "What's happened?"

"You must have been very tired," Susan said, "We carried you all the way here and you never woke."

"Where are we?" Lucy asked.

"We heard the bay of wolves and Mr. Beaver remembered an old friend of his living here. He found her and she covered our tracks all the way here. This is her house."

"Who is she?" Lucy asked.

Susan leaned close, "she's a skunk," she whispered.

Lucy sat up.

There was a deep, low fireplace to the left and long dark shadows were in front of it. Peter, Edmund, Shard, the beavers and another small sort of person, striped white and black.

"Hullo!" Lucy said brightly.

"Good morning," Peter said, smiling.

Lucy rolled out of the bed, then stopped.

"Who were those horrible people last night?"

"Fair folk," Shard said.

"It looked like both the Seelie and the Unseelie courts, to me," Mr. Beaver added.

"She must have sent out the Unseelie Court," Mrs. Beaver said, shuddering, "After the wolves failed."

"What's Seelie and Unseelie?"

"Holy and unholy," Shard said. "There are two divisions of the fair folk, Seelie and Unseelie. The Seelie are mostly kind and good to men, but the Unseelie mean only harm. The witch is the head over the Unseelie Court, which was partly why she was so efficient at taking over Narnia."

"Oh," Lucy said. "So if the Seelie hadn't come then I'd be with the witch by now?"

"Precisely," Shard said.

"Who's the head of the Seelie Court?" Lucy asked. "I thought they were very pretty, the others were just ugly."

"Oberon and Tatiana." Shard said. "These you saw were pixies, very different then most of the fair folk, some are tall and fair like dryads."

"I like the last one that left," Lucy said. "He winked at me,"

"That was probably Puck," Shard said.

"Do you think they'll come back?" Peter asked, "The Unseelie, I mean."

"Not likely," Mr. Beaver said, "If the Seelie Court is so bent on us getting to Archanland then they'll keep the Unseelie away."

"Well," Mrs. Beaver said, "Unseelie or no Unseelie, we should have breakfast."

Lucy saw that Mrs. Beaver had been stirring the contents of a pot of the fire and it was just now beginning to boil. A wonderful smell filled the air.

"Breakfast sounds like the best idea anyone has had yet." Edmund said.

Lucy came and sat in front of the fire, the skunk stepped aside to make room for her.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Beaver said, "Miss Lucy, this is Mrs. Tweeny. Mrs. Tweeny, this is Lucy, soon to be Queen of Narnia."

"I am completely and absolutely and totally delighted to make your acquaintance!" Mrs. Tweeny exclaimed.

~o*o~

"We should probably be leaving as soon as possible," Peter said, downing his bowl of stew. "We haven't any time to waste. The longer we are here, the harder it will be for us to get out."

"I'm so tired," Lucy complained.

"At least you slept all night," Edmund said. "I agree with Peter."

"Of course," Susan said, "I just wish it wasn't so cold."

"It will warm up once we start walking," Peter said, smiling.

Lucy ate slowly, relishing the warmth. They would be out in the bitter cold soon. It was an awful thought. They had all gotten headaches yesterday, not so much from the brilliant snow, but from the horrible cold.

"What's that?" Lucy asked, looking up.

"What?" Peter asked, breaking off his conversation with Mr. Beaver.

"That scuffling noise."

"Scuffling noise?" Susan asked, half standing.

"Secret Police," Edmund said standing, "I hear it too."

Suddenly a blood-chilling howl echoed through the room.

"You'll have to go out the back door," Mrs. Tweeny said. "The Beavers know it. I'll go distract them."

"We can't leave you alone!" Peter exclaimed.

"Must," Mr. Beaver said, shouldering open a door, "She'll be all right. Wolves can't abide skunks."

"Thank you so much for your hospitality, Mrs. Tweeny," Susan said, bundling Lucy into her coat, but Mrs. Tweeny was already away. Peter shoved Susan out the door into the snow and threw Edmund and Lucy after her.

They ran. There wasn't much else to be done. They could help the footprints they left in the snow. Not five hundred yards from the den the wind shifted bringing the agonized howling of wolves and the overpowering smell of skunk.

~o*o~

It was rather uninteresting to walk over fields of white with hope only of more fields of white ahead of them. Behind and in front of them Narnia spread out, vast and beautiful. Each cascading hill dazzled them with the early morning sunlight flashing off their icy tops. The mountains between Archanland and Narnia looked distant and foreboding. Peter wondered whether he had done the right thing in leading the others this way, but whenever he tried to think of any other way, he knew that there was none, this was the only way. It was the only thing he was sure of in this uncertain world.

Susan was the last of the procession and she had the uncanny feeling of being followed. Whenever she looked behind her, huge elusive prints were there, next to theirs as far as she could see. She came to the conclusion that whatever was following them must be invisible. She wondered if she ought to tell the others about them again, then decided not to. They had enough to think about.

After about three hours of walking they went over a river, frozen solid, and continued on their way. There was a ridge of hills after the river and Mr. Beaver, who was familiar with the area, because, his second cousin's wife's grandmother lived there, found a pass through them.

After the hills, they went into a scattering of ice-covered trees that thickened into woods. They had been walking so long now that it almost seemed natural to swing the next leg forward, but they were desperately weary. Peter, Susan and occasionally Edmund, took turns carrying Lucy. They were thankful now that even though she was nine, she was so small, hardly bigger then a seven-year-old.

Mr. Beaver kindly reminded them that they had only walked nearly fifty miles since they left the beavers' house and they had twenty miles more to go before they reached the foothills before the mountains of Archanland.

"And of course you have to take into consideration the other fifteen miles from the boarder to Cair Anvard." He said, "And it hasn't even been hard walking, it's been ice sheets the whole way."

"Oh," Edmund said, "Well I feel as if I've been up and down more high hills and deep valleys then I'd care to name _and_ the ice sheets are slippery. How big is Narnia anyway?"

"Narnia is a small land," Mr. Beaver said, "It's about two hundred miles along the sea coast from the boarder of Archanland to the boarder of Ettinsmoor. No one really knows how big Ettinsmoor is but it adds at least another hundred or two hundred miles to the length of Narnia. The other way, it's a hundred and fifty miles from Cair Paravel to the boarder of Telmar. Farther north or farther south, it's wider. We've started our journey from near the middle of the southern half of Narnia."

Trees were far more interesting then fields of snow. Here at least they could watch the fat little chickadees flutter through the branches. None of them seemed to be talking birds and Mr. Beaver explained that the talking kind were much bigger.

There was no wind, but the trees seemed to rustle and sigh on their own.

"They were awake once," Mr. Beaver said, gesturing to the trees, "all of them, except the ones that are on the witch's side, are asleep."

"The trees are alive?" Lucy gasped, "How wonderful."

They came out onto a field again, the sun came out and the snow was glittering with sunlight. Now a dead world seemed to be alive.

"Look!" Edmund said suddenly pointing at the burning blue sky, "a hawk, up there!"

"Hawks in Narnia?" Mr. Beaver looked puzzled, "are you sure they aren't vultures?"

"No," Edmund said, "they're hawks."

"But there aren't any hawks in Narnia!" Mr. Beaver exclaimed looking up at them, "you're right, they're hawks!"

* * *

><p>AN: A lot of people have commented on my extreme lack of spelling:) and for this I can only apologize and mayhap explain. I wrote nearly all of this story when I was thirteen. I wasn't much of a computer wiz and somehow (I still don't understand it) I managed to turn off the spell-check for the first half of _The Wardrobe._ So if you've noticed spelling and grammar mistakes galore, that's why! I've never been much of a speller and was only worse then! Unfortunately, when Rose started posting the story, I forgot that we needed to do something major about the spelling. Anyhow, we've gone back over it with a spell check (and your helpful suggestions!) and have attempted to make it a little more readable. It probably still has problems, but we're both pretty busy and what with riding, volunteering and schoolwork _(and _college)_,_ there's only so much we can do.:)

I certainly hope that the other stories that follow this one are a little more respectable. (they should be!)

anyway, thanks for your interest! I'm glad you all care enough about this thing to fix the spelling for me!

happy reading,

~Psyche


	19. Saved!

Saved!

* * *

><p>"It's really high time we got lunch!" Mrs. Beaver said when the sun above them told her that it was noontime.<p>

"But we must keep on!" Mr. Beaver exclaimed, "We don't have time for lunch!"

"Everyone has time for lunch," Mrs. Beaver sniffed; she opened her sack and looked in it for a while, "where is that ham?"

She stood up again, paws on hips, "I remember now!" she turned to Peter, "I put it in your sack!"

Peter put his sack on the snow in front of her obligingly and she pulled out a perfectly enormous ham.

"No wonder that sack was so heavy!" Peter laughed.

Mrs. Beaver found the bread plate and the bread knife and carved generous helpings for everyone off the ham.

~o*o~

Treve saw a hawk descend, it was Jafa.

Martin stretched out his hand and Jafa landed on his wrist.

"Have you seen anything?" Equus asked.

"Yes!" Jafa gasped, attempting to get back his breath, "Saw them, four children, two beavers, heading towards Dancing Lawn."

"What are we waiting for?" Martin exclaimed, "Let's go!"

The three centaurs leapt forward and disappeared into the trees.

Treve streaked forward, he would have to keep up with them.

When they broke out of the woods again the two other hawks circled and landed and reported that they had seen them too. They settled down to a walk and Treve crept behind them, hoping to stay concealed behind snow banks.

Treve was very tired and he lagged farther and farther behind.

~o*o~

It was something that none of them, except perhaps the hawks had ever experienced. It was something unheard of, ethereal, wild, beautiful…it was Narnia.

Even lying dead as she was, under fathoms of snow, there was something almost sacred about her. The trees shivered even though there was no wind, the snow seemed to sparkle more than it had in Archanland. The whole land itself sighed as if with pain.

The three centaurs were in the hilly part of Narnia and they were very high up. As they continued downward, they came out of the trees and the land fell away in front of them in breath taking magnificence. They stood still, looking in wonder at the scene.

The land flew down to acres of farmland, wild forests, jagged mountains and the great river, now frozen in its foaming course. They could barely see the great woods around Cair Paravel herself and beyond the woods was the sea, a great sheet of gleaming blue…then the utter east.

Finally Martin broke the exhilarated silence.

"We must press on friends," he said in a hushed voice, "or else we will never reach them in time."

~o*o~

Treve woke with a start. He was lying in a snow bank and the sun was almost overhead. He didn't have an idea when he fell asleep, he wasn't even sure if it was the same day.

In complete panic, he started to his feet and stared around him. The centaurs were gone, not even their tracks showed which direction they went.

Fear sized Treve and he started forward and a gallop. He was alone, alone in a strange country. There were wolves here, a witch…the very thought put a shiver down his spine.

Treve was too scared to even know where he was going.

~o*o~

Night began to fall when the centaurs reached the woods again. The hawks had reported that they had seen _them_ nearing dancing lawn.

"If we keep going this way, we will probably come across them," Ergo said.

"It's funny," Elah interrupted, "I saw a young red fox streaking past those trees over there, it looked a lot like little Treve."

"Couldn't be," Flavis said, "we sent him back almost as soon as we got here. And anyway, he would have to run pretty fast to get there before us."

"Let's keep going or else we won't get there at all," Martin reminded him.

"Oh come off it Martin," Equus laughed, "You look as gloomy as a grave!"

"I am," Martin said, "if we don't get there then they'll be their graves and all of Narnia's hope will be gone."

~o*o~

Treve was twisting though the trees when he heard savage voices.

"Don't you know the meaning of stop, Loki?" a voice snarled, "Listen!"

Then followed three quick yips.

"That's the signal," the same voice snarled again, "repeat it."

Treve crept forward, one paw at a time until he came to the edge of a small clearing. The rank smell of skunk permeated the air. Standing or lying in a circle were ten wolfs. In the center of the circle stood a hideous black wolf and laying at his feet was a young, rather skinny gray wolf.

From what Treve could gather, he was a new recruit and had responded incorrectly to a certain signal.

"Please sir," Loki quavered, "what's the signal for draw back? And charge?"

The black wolf laughed, "draw back is a yip a howl and a bark, though the secret police never use it, we never draw back. You ought to know charge already."

Suddenly a crackling of ice came from behind Treve and he pressed himself into the snow. Two wolves whipped within a hair's breadth of him and never saw him.

They plowed their way through the circle of wolves to the black one.

"Sir, we have located the humans," one of them said.

"Very good Fenris," the black wolf through back his head and howled.

All the wolves leapt to their feet except the young one.

"You ought to know that fool!" the black wolf barked to Loki, "Charge!"

~o*o~

"Peter," Susan called from the back of the procession, "it's high time we stopped to rest, Lucy's nearly dropping."

They had just entered a clearing.

"I think it's high time we stopped for the _night_," Mrs. Beaver exclaimed.

Peter turned and looked around. It was dark now, the moon was full and silver and Lucy was almost asleep on her feet, they all were.

"I could give you another piggy back ride Lu," Peter said, but his back ached at the thought of carrying her again.

"No," Lucy sank into the snow, "I just want to go to sleep!"

Peter looked at the faces of the others, they were all tired.

"We must stop here," Susan said.

"All right," Peter said after a moment, "but we can't go to sleep, it's far too cold. We might freeze to death."

"We must have a fire." Susan said.

"No!" Peter exclaimed, "they'll see it!"

"They'd find us anyway, Peter," Susan said. "Edmund's freezing. We all are."

Peter looked down at them all, Shard, who hadn't slept the night before, was almost as tired as Lucy. His little brother Edmund, so thin and slight. He got cold easily, and yet he kept going and going. Susan, who's face was drawn from worry, weary from the burden of watching over them, and thinking, like himself, about what would come next. It was hard to tell what the beavers were thinking, but Peter could see by their drooping shoulders that they were exhausted. Peter wished with all his heart that he could infuse them with some of his own energy and strength.

"All right," he said, "we'll make a fire."

The others breathed a sigh of relief.

Mrs. Beaver handed out more ham for supper, then everyone settled down in the snow around the fire and almost instantly fell asleep. Peter alone stood, looking down at them. Then he sat with his back to a tree, drew his sword and convinced himself to stay awake. Someone had to; the wolves could be back anytime.

~o*o~

The three centaurs and three hawks reached the Dancing Lawn.

"Now the trick is to find them," Flavis said, glancing around the dark clearing, "they could be anywhere."

"Split up and look for them," Martin paused, listening, then they all heard it. The wild baying of wolves…and something else, something to make them shiver, "I like not the sound of it. There is some devilry afoot here, perhaps even werewolves. We must find the children."

They ranged around the edge of the woods and Jafa, who had the sharpest eyes, was the first to see the children and the beavers, around a dark hole in the ice that had been the fire.

They stood, looking down at them.

"Chibb was right," Martin said looking down at Lucy with her head on Shard's shoulder, "they are children."

"Poor kids," Flavis said, "they must be completely worn out."

"Look at his sword," Martin leaned over and looked at Rhindon, drawn in Peter's hand, "it is of the finest steel."

"I've never seen a sword like it," Flavis said, "The other boy has one too."

The bay of wolves split the air, nearer now, and a moment more and the harsh form of Maugrim flitted across the moonlit snow towards them with his pack following.

"Quick!" Equus said, "Here they are!"

"Wake up!" Flavis yelled. He grabbed Lucy, who, to him, seemed the most vulnerable and threw her up on Martin's back before she was even awake.

~o*o~

Lucy shrieked.

For a moment she was suspended in mid air, then she landed with a thump on something warm and solid.

"What!" she gasped and opened her eyes, at first she thought she was sitting behind a man on horse until it occurred to her that the man was attached to the horse.

She was on a centaur?

A centaur?

That's ridiculous!

Ridiculous.

Martin spun around and unsheathed his great claymore, Lucy grabbed at his sword sheath that was strapped on his back as she started to slip off.

"Get on quick!" Martin yelled to Susan, who was looking rather dazedly up at him. A moment later Martin had picked up Susan and put her on Flavis's back.

Peter and Edmund were on Equus, and Flavis had picked up the beavers, one under each arm and was dealing the wolves powerful kicks with his hind legs while Susan, white faced, clung to his sword sheath.

There seemed to be a sea of wolves, dark, flashing towards them, then feinting to the side so it seemed one could never quite hit them.

Every now and then Lucy could see a flash of white as Shard tangled with a wolf. He had the advantage because most of them thought he was a friend through instinct. They didn't remember that he was a renegade until they were dying on the snow.

Quite suddenly, they all heard a sound that made their blood run cold. It was long and low, a wailing of heartbreak and sorrow. Then immediately there followed a high shriek that held so long that their ears felt pierced through.

"What is it?" Susan gasped.

"She's sent out the werewolves," Flavis replied shortly, beheading a wolf, "She must have lost all hope of getting you back alive."

Martin twisted violently as he wielded his claymore and Lucy found herself slipping more off his smooth back. She clutched at his sheath, but the next moment she fell off sideways onto the snow.

Lucy struggled to her feet and stood unsteadily for a moment. A wolf pealed away from the pack and streaked towards here. Fear bolted down Lucy's spine like an electric shock and she ran as she never ran before. She reached the nearest tree and turned to face the wolf, her back the trunk.

Susan was the only one who had seen Lucy fall. She slid off Flavis and she ran towards Lucy and the wolf, unsheathing her dagger. Lucy was struggling with her bow, somehow it had gotten caught in the sheath and refused to come loose.

Susan reached them, stumbled, than clambered to her feet again. She reached out and grabbed the wolf by the scruff of its neck as it launched itself at Lucy and stabbed. She watched it roll back, dead on the snow, its crimson life blood draining from it.

Susan's eyes met Lucy's, Lucy was too horrified to cry. Susan chocked, dropped on her knees on the snow and hugged Lucy close.

The next moment, Susan and Lucy found themselves seated again on the centaurs, holding on for dear life as they dashed and plunged after the wolves.

It was then that the werewolves came.

Peter saw them first, and watched with horror as three creatures, shimmering green, darted out of the dark woods. They were not wolves, at least not quite. Their forelegs were longer then their hind legs and their chests were broad, more like a bulldog's then a wolf. Their eyes seemed to glow like live coals and from their foaming mouths came that wild eerie howl that made the travelers blood run cold.

The next moment something small and red streaked though the woods next to Susan and Lucy, then disappeared again.

Then a sharp yip, followed by a howl and a bark split the air. The signal for retreat.

The ordinary wolves obeyed without a sound and disappeared into the woods like sand through a sieve.

"Wait fools!" Maugrim roared, "I didn't say to retreat!"

Martin's sword swept downwards towards Maugrim, but the big wolf leapt aside and he too disappeared into the woods. The werewolves remained, creeping noiselessly towards the travelers, spectral as hellhounds. No word controlled them, only the witch's and hers only just.

Equus lunged forward his head high, his eyes blazing, "In the name of Aslan!" he called, his voice ringing, "return to your maker!"

The werewolves came to a halt for a moment, fixing the travelers with their glowing eyes, bright as mirrors. Then they turned and melted back into the forest. The travelers could see them still, flickering through the trees, wraithlike spirits, then they vanished entirely.

"What were they?" Lucy managed at last.

"Werewolves," Martin said shortly, "It is said that their bite makes you go mad gradually until you are a raving lunatic and would kill anyone who would come near you."

Lucy shivered.

"I'm sorry," Martin said quickly, "I should not have said it."

"What did you mean by their 'maker'?" Peter asked Equus hesitantly.

"The witch," Equus replied, "She makes them. All the wolves in her command lose their minds and turn into werewolves gradually. They are very dangerous and she only uses them in most dire need."

"It is very true," Shard said, "Maugrim himself is on the verge of turning into one."

"We tarry here too long," Martin exclaimed, "They will all return before long. We must hurry to Archanland as quickly as possible."

"What?" Flavis's voice rose to a high pitch and they all turned to see him spin around holding a small red fox by the tail, "no you're not getting away that easily!" he set the fox down again.

The little fox cowered before Flavis.

"I told you to go back!" Flavis cried, "Where you'd be safe! Your parents probably think we've murdered you by now!"

The fox plastered himself on the ground, "I only wanted to help find them," he whispered.

"I'm sorry Treve," Flavis said more gently, "I didn't mean to yell at you. After all you saved us from a pretty ticklish situation. Where did you get those signals from?"

"I overheard them talking about it," Treve explained, "I tried to get here first once the scouts came in, but I couldn't run as fast as them."

Martin stamped his hoof, "We _must_ go!"

"Wait!" Peter said, "I'd like to know first who you are and why you're here?"

"Sir, I'm sorry we did not begin with that," Flavis said, smiling, "I am Flavis, the Narnian historian. This is Martin the general of the Narnian army and this is Equus, the prophet of Narnia. And these are Ergo, Elah and Jafa. We are Narnians currently residing in Archanland, we came to rescue you. Chibb got through."

"Good old Chibb," Peter said, "Thank you very much; we would have been in a bit of a stew if you hadn't shown up."

"As I was saying," Martin cut in, "those brutes will be all back in a minute, we _must _continue on!" he paused, then glanced back at Lucy, "I apologize for loosing you. It was ill done of me."

"Oh, it's quite all right," Lucy said and suppressed a yawn, "We dealt with it."

For the first time, Treve saw Martin smile.

"Oh, Shard!" Susan exclaimed, "You're hurt."

"Just a scratch milady," Shard said licking the gash on his leg, "I've gotten far worse before."

"I'll put some of my cordial on it," Susan said, beginning to uncork the bottle.

"No," Shard said, "It's far too precious to waste on me."

"We should get going before they come back," Martin interrupted, pawing impatiently at the snow, "Come! Shard's right milady, It's merely a scratch."

They started.

The moon was very high now and the woods soon thinned and gave way to more white plains, silver in the flooding moonlight. As they walked, to help everyone stay awake, Peter told all that had befallen them in their journey and before. When he finished, Flavis told their tale.

Shard who slipped along in their shadows, followed up as rearguard. He kept glancing back at the dark shade of the now distant trees. He felt as if they were being followed, and not by wolves.

* * *

><p>AN: This is the second to last chapter!


	20. The Race

The Race

* * *

><p>Day came quickly. They had come to low hills, each rolling a little higher then the last. The mountains before Archanland towered above them far closer then they had been.<p>

They watched with foreboding as dark storm clouds came down and gathered in the skies above them. Slowly, deathly, the snow began to fall. It came more and more thickly, filling the air until it became hard to breathe. The centaurs turned in a circle and clasped each other's hands for the air was so thick with snow they could barely see each other.

"This is the witch's doing, I'll wage you," Flavis said, shouting over the wind that was beginning to rise.

Lucy felt that the wind cut right through her and Edmund, who sat behind her on Martin, wrapped her in his coat to try to keep her warm.

The snow came harder, driving into every corner of their clothing and trickling down their backs. It made white breastplates on their coats and crowned them with snowy berets. The centaurs could feel the level of the snow rising on their legs and the beavers, Treve and Shard, huddled and the space between the centaurs and were completely covered with a heavy blanket of white.

How long it went on like this, none of them knew, it could have been hours or only a few minutes, but each time the storm seemed to tire, it attacked again with renewed vigor. At last with a sigh, as if it were unbearably weary, the wind ceased to blow and the clouds, now spent, began to rise.

It was almost as if someone was lifting the corners of a heavy blanket that had been thrown over them and they began to be able to see farther and farther, until again the mountains before Archanland came into view.

The centaurs shifted and heavy moulds of snow fell in pieces from the humans on their backs. The place between them erupted and Shard, the two beavers and Treve fought their way to the surface. It was not damp snow, but very dry and hard packed by the insurmountable force of the wind.

"We must continue on, friends," Martin said, "I have no doubt that that was some last ditch attempt by the witch to keep us from reaching our goal. I have little doubt that she has more in store for us."

Almost as soon as he finished talking, they heard the wolves again.

Looking behind them, they saw the wolves rippling out of the woods like liquid silver. They were coming fast, very fast over the snow, hard packed by the blizzard. It was not strong enough to support a centaur, but to the wolves, it was like a floor of marble.

"They're awfully close," Lucy said.

"By Aslan's grace we can out run them!" Equus exclaimed, turning and bounding through the snow, much like a deer bounds over a brook in the woods. Martin picked up Treve and Mr. Beaver and greatly ruffled the latter's dignity by tucking him under his arm. Flavis scooped up Mrs. Beaver and they dashed after the grey centaur.

"Wheeeee!" Mrs. Beaver shrieked in delight as Flavis gathered speed and passed Martin.

Peter glanced back and saw the wolves, streaking low to the ground towards them, they were now very close.

"Shall I draw my sword?" he asked.

"No," Martin panted. "It would not aid anyone if you chopped off Equus' head."

"Maybe we can slow them down!" Ergo flapped off Equus's should, "Come on boys let's show them!"

The three hawks soared into the air, circled once, then drove straight for the wolves. The wolves slackened their pace and some stopped entirely for a moment. The gap widened between them and the centaurs. The hawks flipped into the air again, then dashed on the wolves that seemed to be getting too far ahead.

The centaurs plunged on, snow flying in great sheets from their churning legs. They were very near their destination now. Time wore on. Their breathing came faster and their steps slower.

"Where's the pass?" Flavis yelled. Treve writhed loose from Martin's grip, dropped to the ground and almost was trampled by Martin's hoofs, but the next moment Treve streaked to the beginning of the pass, "Over here!" he called and the centaurs thundered after him up the path. A minute later, they came out on the ridge and looked down at the wolves. They were safe, they were in Archanland. The wolves dared not follow.

"Ergo, Jafa, Elah!" Martin bellowed at them, "Come now!"

The three hawks flapped away from the wolves and soared high into the air.

"What are they doing?" Martin asked incredulously as the hawks did a series of flips and rolls in the air.

"Victory rolls," Flavis said, "Why do hawks always show off?"

Elah, Jafa and Ergo plummeted down and landed on the ground before Martin.

"We sure did it, didn't we?" Elah fluffed up his feathers.

"We sure did!" Jafa said.

"Oh come off it!" Flavis laughed, "Let's get going."

"By all means," Mr. Beaver said. "But put me down first!"

"I beg your pardon," Martin said, setting him neatly down on the snow. Flavis put Mrs. Beaver down next to him.

"Wasn't that fun!" Mrs. Beaver exclaimed. "It was splendid! Mr. Flavis is _so_ fast!"

"Excuse me sirs," a gruff voice came from near the ground, "have you seen-Treve!"

A badger was standing on his hind paws peering at Treve.

"Your parent's are half sick with worry!" the badger exclaimed, "You must go home at once! There have been search parties looking for you for two days!"

"Really…Oh," for the first time Treve realized the consequences of his going to Narnia. "woops," he added in a whisper.

"I'll go and call off the search parties," the badger said, beginning to lumber back into the woods.

"Wait! Lumberfoot!" Treve called after him, "my parent's..they're not too worried?"

"They're worried out of their minds," Lumberfoot retorted.

"Well," Martin said, "Lead the way to your house, Treve."

With tail drooping, Treve turned around slowly and started down the pass. He found himself quite a bit ahead of the others and he turned, waiting for them.

Shard was the first to reach him. Treve, who was almost scared of the white wolf, half wondered if he should trot back and walk with the others.

"What's eating you?" Shard asked, "You seem down."

"I am," Treve said and glanced sideways at Shard, "I shouldn't have gone, should I?"

"No," Shard said calmly, "you should not have, you are only a young pup and I'm sure your parent's didn't want you to go."

"They never said anything," Treve began.

"It was an unspoken command." Shard said, "In the Police we were taught to obey orders; if we disobeyed we were insubordinate. Anyone who did that was punished. You deserve a punishment. You did a harebrained act. It turned out all right in the end, but it could have been disastrous for you. It could have been dangerous for the rest of us too and you made your parents worry. Those two areas were where you were being selfish."

"I only wanted to know what it would be like to be a hero," Treve said in a small voice.

"Did you find out?" Shard asked.

"No."

"You did," Shard corrected him.

"I did Sir?"

"Yes, when you yapped those signals," Shard said.

"I wasn't being very heroic then," Treve said, "only scared to death."

"Do you know what heroic things are?" Shard asked.

"Saving someone?" Treve asked.

"Sort of, not strictly," Shard asked. "What do you think a hero is?"

"Someone who does heroic things?" Treve suggested.

"Not exactly. You are usually a hero when you least expect it and most often you are and don't know it. A hero is somecreature that is scared to death, yet does it anyway. Being a hero is giving your all for someone else, no matter what the consequences, that's being selfless. When you called out those signals, you weren't thinking of yourself.

"Most creatures aren't heroes, even if they think they are. They just don't have the stuff it takes. A hero is a rare kind of person and they don't grow on trees. A real hero is humble and in their humility is their strength.

"A hero can be anyone, but not everyone. A hero isn't born a hero, he has to learn over his life, like fine steel on a forge. Like I said before, heroes don't even realize they are doing it. "

"You mean I _was_ a hero?" Treve gasped.

"Yes," Shard said, "but you still deserve a good thrashing."

_**The End (For now)**_

* * *

><p>AN: Well, here we are at the end! Thanks for sticking with us this long. Although, come to think of it, we're really not even at the end of the beginning. If you are interested, we will be posting the sequel to _The Wardrobe_ soon. It will be _The Witch._

~Rose

I hope you've enjoied reading this as much as I have writing it! I've certainly had enough intrest! Over 750 hits from 20 countries! That's exciting!

~Psyche

PS: Don't go away!


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